Love Story
by Lady Etiquette
Summary: Mary and Matthew have been married for 15 years, and find themselves a little bored. But their daughter, a trip to London, and finding themselves alone at Downton again for a few weeks changes all of that. Thanks to Julian Fellows for these wonderful characters and a nod to Erich Segal for shamelessly barrowing his book title!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This story has been floating around in my head for a while, so I had to finally write it down. This finds Mary and Matthew slightly older, and struggling with a little marital boredom. This kicks off with a disagreement, so you are forwarned. But it all leads to a happy place. :) Happy Reading!

* * *

Downton Abbey – 1935

Matthew took the steps up the grand staircase one at a time, slowly running his hand along the banister, balancing a napkin covered dessert plate in his other hand and replaying the events of the evening in his head. He used to keep track of their dinner parties, but had lost count years ago. As he rounded the second floor landing he thought about how the guests all seemed to blur together, an endless queue of black tuxedos and glittery evening gowns. Lord and Lady Such and Such, or Duke and Duchess Thus and So. He usually didn't know them, but Mary had deemed them important to have for dinner, usually for one of the many philanthropic trusts she sat on the board of for Downton. He buttoned his black dinner jacket as he walked in thought.

Walking along the tapestry lined corridor a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he approached his daughter's bedroom. It was Mary's old bedroom from when she was a girl, and it tickled him that their fifteen year old daughter was now its occupant. He gently rapped on the door. "Maggie?" He put his ear to it unsure of she was still awake at such an hour.

"Daddy? Is that you?" Her voice was a conspiratorial whisper.

He smiled at how sweet her voice was, bright and kind with the subtle beginnings of a women's tone. "Of course it's me, silly girl." He playfully lowered his voice. "At least I better be the only man knocking on your door at midnight young lady!"

The door opened and Margaret Crawley, dressed in white and blue print pajamas and a matching robe, stood looking at her father with a slightly surprised expression on her face. "Did you remember my desert?"

Matthew held the dessert plate out toward her like a waiter, dramatically lifting the white napkin off. "Voila! Chocolate cake, my Lady."

"Oh, thank you! Oooo, chocolate! My favorite!" She took the plate cheerfully and walked back over to the desk, where she had been sitting near the bed. "Mmmm…" she hummed. "This is delicious," she mumbled around a mouthful of cake. "How was the party?"

He smiled. "It was fine. A little dull, but fine. My rear end is tired from sitting so long." He eyed the book on the desk, reaching to flip the cover over so he could read its title, "Huckleberry Finn." He gave an approving nod. "Yes, Mark Twain. Good choice."

Maggie smiled as she enjoyed another bite. "I saw Mother when she headed downstairs to receive everyone—she looked so beautiful and glamorous in her red gown. Didn't you think so, Daddy?"

Matthew grinned down at her and rubbed her shoulder. "Yes, she looked quite stunning, as always." It was true. Mary was beautiful as ever and relished evenings to display Downton's opulence.

Maggie took another bite of cake. "I hope I'm as pretty as her someday."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "My dearest, you are so lovely it shatters my heart."

She looked up at him. Her long wavy blond hair was held back by a head band and her dimples showed when she smiled. "You really think so?"

He bent down and looked in to her eyes. "Now you're just fishing for compliments!"

Maggie laughed self-consciously, shifting in her seat, and took another bite.

Matthew glanced around the room and sniffed the air as though something had caught his attention. "Was Nanny Crenshaw just in here?"

Maggie stopped in mid-chew and looked up at him, her eyes becoming cautious. "No…." she whispered up at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Huh," he huffed out, "I thought I smelled one of her cigarettes." He looked down and noticed the desk drawer was ajar and a ribbon of smoke curled up out of it. Suspicious, he reached down and gently pulled the drawer opened revealing a lit cigarette smoldering in a makeshift ashtray made from a tea saucer. Maggie sat frozen. He looked at his daughter and spoke in a surprised whisper. "Maggie….have you been smoking?"

The teenager nodded up at him silently, sliding the fork back out of her mouth, lowering the dessert plate to her lap. "Yes, Father." Her eyes were as soft and submissive as her voice. She had the look of a thief who had been caught.

It was his turn to be surprised. "Did you sneak one of Nanny Crenshaw's cigarettes?"

Maggie nodded again in silence, her face guilt-ridden. "Yes, sir."

Matthew pulled the ashtray out of the drawer and put the cigarette out, and sat down on the edge of the bed across from her. "But why would you do such a thing?"

Maggie shrugged. "I don't know. Ginger Rogers smoked in Top Hat and I saw Olivia de Havilland smoking in a photo in Vogue." She looked down at her cake. "They look so sophisticated."

Matthew reached over and put his fingers under her chin and tilted her head back up. Her blue eyes—his blue eyes—glittered back at him. He spoke firmly but gently. "Yes, I'm sure they do, sweetheart, but they're grown ups."

Maggie sat forward on her chair eagerly. "Oh, but Daddy, Olivia de Havilland is only a few years older than I am! And I'll be seventeen in a year and a half! And you said I could begin using my title as Lady next year."

"Well, in a few years when you're more grown up some of those things will be proper." He couldn't believe he uttered the very same words that his father had said to him when he was caught smoking one of his cigars at sixteen. He stood and crossed the room to the window, emptying the contents of the ashtray out in to the cold, rainy night air and the lawn below. "But for now you are still fifteen and too young. And being a lady is not an entitlement, but a reflection…"

"…of our respect for others," she finished for him, nodding. "Yes, yes, I know. But I'm fifteen and a half and Mother began using her title when she was a toddler."

"Well that was her, and things were different then. We're talking about you. And as your father I would prefer that you wait." He looked out the window and noticed a storm was gradually building across the dark sky but paid it no further attention. "And that's final," he said sliding the window back down and closing it with a thunk.

Maggie's shoulders slumped. "Yes, Father."

He looked down at her and ran his palm over her hair. "And no more sneaking Nanny Crenshaw's cigarettes. Do we have an understanding young lady?"

She nodded up at him. "Yes, alright. I promise. And I'm sorry."

He smiled and patted her cheek. "I love you silly girl."

She smiled back at him. "I love you, too, Daddy…thank you for bringing up the chocolate cake up for me."

He would give her the world to her could, but tonight it would be chocolate cake.

* * *

Mary sat braiding her hair as Matthew walked in, still dressed in his tuxedo. "Where have you been?"

"I took Maggie a piece of cake."

Mary sighed and spoke to his reflection in her vanity mirror. "I do wish you would stop calling her that. It sounds like a chorus girl's name. It makes her sound like a Rockette." She rubbed some cream on her hands. "Margaret is a perfectly beautiful name."

Matthew pulled at his black bow tie looking at her but ignoring her comment. "I think it's time we help Nanny Crenshaw find another post with a new family."

"Whatever for?" As Mary spoke she noticed the soft rumbling of thunder outside, off in the distance. She glanced in the direction of the window and then ignored it.

He shrugged. "I just think she's growing up a little and needs more time with us."

Mary laughed at him. "Don't be so dramatic, Matthew. Margaret is a child and a nanny is perfectly appropriate for a teenager her age. I had my nanny until my coming out ball."

He yanked at his tie. "I caught her smoking."

Mary swung around on her vanity stool. "Smoking cigarettes?"

He nodded. "That's right."

Mary was stunned. "Well what did you say?"

He slid his jacket off and tossed it over the arm of a chair. "I told her that she was too young and we talked about it and that was the end of it."

Mary rolled her eyes. "And that's all you're going to do about it?"

Matthew sat in the chair untying a shoe. "Well what you have me do? Spank her?" He laughed sarcastically. "She's a little old for that my dear, don't you think?"

Mary tied a ribbon around the end of her braid, exasperated. "And I suppose doing nothing is the answer?"

He let a shoe drop loudly on to the floor. "I didn't say I did nothing; I said we talked about it and it's been corrected. Besides, I just told you I think she needs a mother, not a nanny."

Mary shook her head in disbelief. "Margaret has a perfectly lovely life. But you're too soft on her."

"Well what would you have me do, darling? Lock her up in the attic?"

Mary thought about it a moment and shrugged. "Well, perhaps not letting her go on her school trip to Paris next week would make the point quite clear."

Matthew paused as he was untying the second shoe. "She has looked forward to that trip for over a year. Punishing her is one thing, but I won't break her heart."

Mary huffed out a laugh. "None of this might have happened if you hadn't insisted she go to a local school instead of a private girl's academy near London."

He stood and regarded her. "Oh, please stop being Lady Mary with me! I'd appreciate it if you would discuss these matters with me as my wife or Mag," he corrected himself, "Margaret's mother. And I'll remind you that I am her father, Mary."

She turned to face him again. "Then why don't you act like it? Giving her everything isn't the structure she needs. She needs limits and boundaries, Matthew."

He shook his head. "You make her sound like a cocker spaniel. And I don't give her everything. But she is growing up, Mary. She is noticing the world around her and blossoming, and so eager to be like you. She wants to spend time with you so much and in a few years she'll be at university."

"Be like me?" The comment surprised and bothered her. Mary had always been secretly pleased that Margaret was just like her father in looks, spirit and in heart. She returned to her mirror. "Well, that's all fine and well. But just because she is physically developing a little bit isn't a reason to let Nanny Crenshaw go."

"No of course not because that would mean you might have to actually cancel a dinner party." He hated the words as they tumbled out of his mouth; and he hated himself for saying it. Matthew just looked at her. He folded his tie and put it in his pocket and grabbed his jacket off the chair. "I think I'll retire down the hall tonight."

"Matthew, please don't be upset. I do understand."

He paused at the door and looked at her. "Do you? Do you really?"

Mary tilted her head to one side. She responded softly and sincerely. "Yes, of course I do."

He searched her face, seeing the glimmer of her heart in her eyes. "Do you still remember?"

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Remember what, darling?"

He felt tired. "Exactly," was all he said, leaving Mary alone and pulling the door quietly closed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary lay awake in bed, looking up at the ceiling, replaying their argument in her head. The room was pitch dark as the storm outside grew closer. Periodic flashes of lightening flickered in from the window. The thunder outside had become progressively louder, prompting her to raise her head up and look toward the window. Frustrated, she dropped her head back down on the pillow, sighing to herself.

_Stop being Lady Mary with him? _

"The nerve," she muttered to herself in the blackness. _To hell with it,_ She thought. It was the same fight they had had before._ "_I think I know my own daughter for heaven's sake_," _she recited to the empty room. And what did he mean when he asked if she remembered? _Remember what?_ She asked herself, as she tossed and turned. More lightning flashed through the window, and Mary scooted deeper under the covers, drawing the sheet up to her nose. Her hand reached over to Matthew's side of the bed, but it only felt cold and empty without him, making her heart sink. Storms frightened her and she was beginning to regret their stupid argument, which left her all alone. She pulled one of his pillows over and hugged it against her, breathing in his wonderful masculine scent. Downton surrounded her with grandeur, but the great old house could not put its warm, strong arms around her and hold her close during a storm.

Oh how she missed him… She began to think about him in his dressing room, a corner room down the hall. The room was drafty and cold, the old windows never shut tightly, the ceiling leaked and the central heating vents were blocked. She couldn't remember if the fireplace even worked. In the damp cold conditions of the room she knew Matthew's old back injury would bother him. _Damned house,_ she thought.

A loud crack of lightning caught her attention, and she peeked up toward the window again. She felt anxious and restless. _Was it the storm,_ she wondered, _or the argument?_ Exasperated, her head plopped back down on the pillow and she rolled over on her side, hugging Matthew's pillow.

* * *

Matthew had finished yanking his dinner clothes off, throwing them over the chair in his dressing room. _Parameters and boundaries, _he huffed to himself. "What a ridiculous thing to say," he muttered to himself out loud.

The lamps in his room flickered on and off as the storm whipped at the estate. Jerking on his pajamas he glanced out the windows again as lightning flashed across the grounds outside. Shaking his head, he clicked off the lamps and climbed in to bed. He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his brow attempting to smooth the tension from his head. _To hell with it_, he thought. "These woman are going to be the death of me," he sighed to himself in the darkness.

The rumbling of thunder outside distracted him and drew his attention to the windows again. He thought about Mary down the hall, remembering how frightened she was of thunder storms. His 'Storm Braver', he had once called her; yet at night, in their bed, she would cuddle up next to him at the first sign of thunder, sometimes shivering. He closed his eyes and could feel the form of her warm body against him and how his arm would cradle her to him….he missed her and felt badly how they had left things.

He caught himself looking toward the door…

* * *

Mary was startled awake by the clap of thunder and the loud bang as lightning struck the east wing of the mansion. A second and then a third round of lightning struck the house violently, followed by a loud explosion which reverberated through the walls. Mary bolted upright in bed, looking around her as windows rattled and shattered and the horrible sound of what appeared to be light fixtures falling from the ceilings and crashing to the floor out in the hallway. "Oh God!" she said out loud as she scrambled out of bed, fumbling in the darkness for her bathrobe and slippers. Tightening the belt of the robe around her, she reached for the door and swung it open in one fierce tug.

"Matthew!" she exclaimed as she found him standing right in front of her. He was just outside the door holding a torch, a hand extended toward the knob of her door. She reached a hand out to him. "What's happening?"

He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I think lightning may have struck the outside generator. The electricity has gone out."

Mary put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, God!" She blinked at him a moment. "Maggie!" She suddenly blurted out. "Sometimes she goes downstairs to sneak a glass of milk from the butler's pantry! The generator is just outside that window! I heard a loud noise. What if…?"

"Calm down, Mary," he squeezed her shoulder. "It's all right," he said calmly.

Mary's eyes suddenly took him in. "How do you know that?"

He smiled reassuringly. "Because she's in my dressing room with a book, a torch and the cat. She wandered down a few minutes ago."

Mary's eyes slid shut in relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

Holding the torch firmly in one hand, Matthew extended his other hand toward Mary and spoke softly. "Come on, then. Take my hand and follow me."

She let out a long breath and put her hand in is. As he walked down the hallway, he tugged her along with him and she followed blithely. Fight or no fight, she was glad to have her hand in his again; his strength and self-assurance permeated her fingers and up her arm and warmed her body. The thunder continued overhead, rumbling above them and sounding like a beast climbing over the roof of the great house. Arriving at the door to his dressing room, Matthew handed Mary his torch. "Take this and wait here with Mag—with Margaret and I'll be back shortly."

Mary nodded and looked at him in concern. "Where are you going?"

Matthew pulled a spare torch from the pocket of his robe and clicked it on. "Bates and I are just going to give the electrical box a quick once-over. Nothing serious. I'll be back in no time." And with that he proceeded back down the corridor toward the grand staircase. Mary watched him disappear as his robe billowed around his legs as he walked.

As Mary entered the dressing room she was immediately greeted by the glow of the candles that were scattered and flickering about the room. Matthew's double bed, a hold-over from his bachelorhood, anchored the far wall, and he had set up an old canvas Army cot with blankets on the opposite wall for Margaret. She spied her daughter leaning against one of the windows, peering out over the estate, holding their cat, Mittens.

Maggie turned around, her smile evident in the dim lighting. "Oh, Mother, isn't it exciting?"

Mary was touched that Margaret had inherited her father's calm demeanor in stormy weather. "I'm afraid exciting is not quite the word I'd use, dear." She joined her at the window and looked out. They could see the lawn during flashes of lightning off in the distance.

"There's really nothing to be afraid of." Maggie said matter-of-factly looking at Mary. "In school we learned that it's really just warm air colliding with cooler air and barometric moister."

Mary laughed a little and patted her back. "That's quite impressive, Margaret, but whatever it is I'll just be glad when it's over and done with." She sighed and looked around the room. Mary glanced down and noticed a magazine on the cot. "Oh, you're reading Vogue?" She reached down and picked it up and assessed the cover as she crossed the room and sat on the corner of the bed.

Maggie sighed wistfully. "I wish I were as beautiful as some of the models in it." She turned and looked at Mary. "Did you ever model Mother? You're so beautiful I'll bet you did!"

Mary was flipping through the pages. "Oh, girls from our kind of family didn't do those sorts of things in those days," she said sounding blasé, eyeing various pages of the magazine. She looked over at Margaret with a smile. "But it's very sweet of you to say so darling. And besides, you are a beautiful girl and I don't want to hear you say otherwise."

Outside in the hallway, Matthew was just returning. The door was ajar and he was about to walk through it, but at the sound of their voices he paused to listen.

Maggie sat down next to Mary. "I'd like to get my hair cut like some of the styles in Vogue."

Mary looked cross. "What are you saying? That you would cut your beautiful blond hair? Absolutely not!"

Maggie chuckled. "Oh, Mother. No one who is anybody wears their hair long like this anymore," she flicked her hair with her fingers. "Accept little girls or old ladies."

In the hallway, Matthew held his breath pensively waiting for Mary's reaction.

"Old ladies?" Mary instinctively reached up and touched a hand to her braid. "Well, honestly, Margaret!"

Maggie spoke up. "Oh, but I mean, it looks wonderful on you, Mother. But, you know, you're older."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Margaret Rose Crawley! You make me feel like Queen Mary!"

Matthew pressed his lips together to suppress a snicker, pulling a hand over his face in amusement.

"Oh, Mother I didn't mean anything about your hair!" Her voice was sincere and happy. "But lots of women are wearing their hair shorter. There's a lovely picture in here of the Duchess of York, and her hair is darling and shoulder length." Maggie turned to the page with a large photo. "See?"

Mary gave an approving glance. "Well, yes, she does look quiet stylish doesn't she?" She flipped another page and something fell out on to her lap. "What's this?" Looking down in curiosity Mary shined her torch on it. "A dried rose bud?" She looked up at Margaret.

Maggie nodded. "It was a present." Her voice was gentle and deeper, a maturing timber to it.

"From who?" Mary asked earnestly.

Matthew was still standing outside the room, eavesdropping. He was leaning against the stone wall, his head tilting slightly as his ears had perked up. _A rose bud_?

Maggie looked at Mary before answering. "Bill Whyte gave it to me." Her voice had a breathless quality as she spoke the name.

Mary blinked several times letting the name register. "You mean Billy Whyte? The dentist's son? That little tot of a boy?" Mary seemed surprised. "Well, he's barely taller than my hip."

Maggie leaned in, her voice more excited and chuckling. "Oh, Mother," she laughed, "Bill is almost seventeen!"

_Bill_? Matthew mouthed the words to himself, his eyes squinting in bewilderment…._Seventeen?_

Mary looked at her more intently, suddenly seeing something in her daughter that she hadn't noticed before. "And he gave you this rose?"

Maggie nodded. "Yes. And there's more."

Outside the door, Matthew was pressing his ear against the door. _There's more?..._ He thought to himself, his brows wrinkled in question.

Mary watched as Margaret reached in to one of the side tables and pulled out one of Matthew's old humidors. Maggie sat back down and opened it slowly. "Actually, he gave me all of these roses…"

The contents made Mary gasp. "Oh, Margaret, there must be forty or fifty roses here!"

Maggie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, he leaves one on my desk every day."

Mary looked up at her daughter. "Oh, Maggie," she sighed now seeing what was in her daughter's face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Maggie shrugged bashfully, her face a full reflection of her father. "I don't know. I just always thought you wanted me to talk with Nanny Crenshaw about these things." Maggie leaned against Mary's side. "Oh, Mother, he's wonderful!" She sighed breathlessly. "He's over six feet tall…at least a full inch taller than Daddy!"

Matthew's forehead dropped against the stone wall with a thud. He suddenly felt short and obsolete.

Maggie scooted closer. "Bill says that after he's done with school next year he's going to Sandhurst; he wants to be a pilot in the R.A.F." Maggie's eyes glistened in the candlelight.

"The R.A.F?" As Mary spoke it all suddenly sounded so grown up to her. Her mind flashed back to her many memories of Matthew in his Army uniform, seeing him off at the train station, praying for him…and her dreams of him.

"Oh, gosh, Mother, he'll look dreamy in his uniform." She looked up at Mary. "I suppose that sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Mary wrapped her arm around Maggie. "Oh, darling, it doesn't sound silly at all! I am well acquainted with how _dreamy _a young man can look in uniform, trust me." She kissed Maggie's hair, and her daughter wrapped her arms around her.

Matthew rested his temple against the cool wall. His eyes closed and a smile drifted across his face as he heard Mary sweetly reminisce…_she does remember_.


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew walked in to the dressing room, greeting them cheerfully. "What's doing?" It warmed him to see Maggie's head on Mary's shoulder. He noticed Mary closed the lid of the humidor and put the magazine on top of it. "Well, the generator took a direct lightning strike. It will take several days to repair, I'm afraid. Maybe as long as a week."

Mary looked up astonished. "A week! Oh for heaven's sake." Her shoulders slumped. "We're supposed to have the Henderson's for dinner on Thursday and Maggie leaves on her trip to Paris with her school group next week. We have things to do!"

Matthew stood at his dresser fiddling to remove his wrist watch. "Well, I'm sorry. I can control many things, my dear, but an act of God isn't one of them."

Mary's expression softened. "I'm sorry. I know it isn't your fault." she exhaled in frustration.

Maggie suddenly perked her head up off Mary's shoulder. "Mother! I have the most brilliant idea!"

Mary looked at her puzzled and amused. "What?"

"Well," Maggie said, standing up now, her arms stretched out. "My school tour is leaving next Monday from Victoria Station, right?"

Matthew smiled. "Yes…_and_?"

Maggie's smile was infectious. "And, so, we—the three of us—could go ahead and go in to London now and spend the week!" She turned to Mary. "Oh, Mother, we could get our hair done together at one of the lovely salons!"

Mary looked nonplussed. "Well, sweetheart, I don't know if…"

Maggie continued. "And we could have cream tea at Fortnum's, go to the museum, stay at the Dorchester and buy new clothes! Oh, Mommie, you could try on some of those new silk stockings like the film stars are all wearing!"

Matthew paused in the middle of blowing a candle out. "Silk stockings?"

Mary shrugged. "Yes, apparently I'm an old fuddy-duddy living out of Queen Victoria's closet."

Maggie laughed. "Oh, Mother, I never said that." She chided her as she sat back down again, while Mittens purred around their laps. "But honestly, wouldn't it be wonderful? The three of us haven't been to London together since, since….well I can't even remember!" She was breathless with excitement.

Matthew stood in front of them, his hands in his robe pockets. "Since you were eight."

Mary looked up at him. "Oh, that can't be right."

He cleared his throat. "Yes it is. The last time we were in London together was when Maggie was eight."

"But that can't be poss…" Mary stopped and thought. "Oh my," Mary remembered now. They had gone in to London for Aunt Rosamond's wedding. They stayed a few extra days and had tea, shopped, and she and Matthew had shared a romantic dinner alone together….they had almost been unable to wait to get back to their hotel to make love, and had snickered trying to be as quiet as possible in the bedroom while Maggie slept in an adjoining room. The memory made her blush and smile. _When did they stop doing that?_ She wondered.

He looked back to their overzealous daughter. "Why don't we sleep on it. Your mother is right." He swung an arm out to make a point. "We have many things going on here and we cannot just go galloping off…."

"Yes, we can." The room was silent as Mary's words danced effortlessly off her lips. "Let's do it!" Mary's face reflected the same enthusiasm Maggie's did.

Maggie and Matthew were staring at her. "Oh, Mother, are you certain? Daddy is right, you have many committees, and he has work to do and…"

Mary smiled and shook her head enthusiastically. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Downton can spare us for a few days and I'll tell the Henderson's a white lie—that we all have the flu or something. And I can't think of anything lovelier than having my hair done with you and all of us spending time together." She tapped a fingertip against Maggie's nose.

Maggie looked up at her. "I love you Mother."

Mary hugged her back, "Oh, my darling, your love means everything to me."

Maggie turned in to her cot with Mittens, who curled up around her, and was almost immediately asleep. Matthew and Mary lay in the double bed, looking up at the ceiling, in the glow of a few candles Matthew had left burning by the window. "So," he started, "Billy Whyte is responsible for my old cigar boxes smelling like roses."

Mary turned to look at him. "Matthew Crawley! Were you eavesdropping?"

He shrugged, his hands on his chest. "Well, I just happened to arrive when you two were talking and I didn't want to interrupt."

Mary chuckled and then whispered. "Well, it's _Bill _now and you should have seen her. She clearly has feelings for this boy and her heart is most glaringly fixed on her sleeve." Mary sighed. "Like father, like daughter."

"I'll have to have a word with young Mr. Whyte." Matthew huffed, whispering back. "What the devil does he mean sneaking flowers to her at school? If he were a gentleman he would come to the house and give them to her properly." He rocked his head in the pillow. "They need parameters and boundaries, Mary. The R.A.F, indeed." He drew a hand across his brow again. "For God's sake..."

"Oh, Matthew, how harmful can it be? He's only seventeen? And his parents are nice people."

He looked at her seriously, trying to control the volume of his whisper. "I can assure you I know precisely what he's thinking." He pointed a finger up at the ceiling to make his point. "Might I remind you that I have been a seventeen year old boy, Mary."

She looked at him sweetly. "Yes, you were." She patted a hand on his. "You weren't really much older than that when we met were you?"

His expression softened as he thought. "I suppose not. I was twenty-two." As Mary moved to slip her hand away, but Matthew caught it and slid his fingers between hers, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "I was filled with angst and passion and ambition."

Mary turned to face him. "Yes, and you were marvelous because of it. So bright and smart and handsome."

"Yes, well if it turns out that Bill Whyte is coincidentally in London early with his parents, I'm locking her up in the attic, by God!"

"Oh, honestly, Matthew! You don't mean that."

He softened his tone. "I just thought she was blossoming, but this? When did she go from collecting dolls and kites to collecting roses from young men? I ask you?"

Mary chuckled. "I don't know, but as you said, she is growing up. It's a wonderful time of life, isn't it?"

He thought back for a moment. "Yes it is," he relented. They were quiet for several minutes as he stared at the ceiling. "Mary?" He whispered.

"Hmm?"

He spoke slightly cautiously. "Remember when we dined alone in London, after Rosamond's wedding?"

She replied gently, whispering back. "Yes, of course I do."

"The Café Royal, wasn't it?" His voice was sweet and tender as they relived the memory.

She nodded in to the pillow. "Yes, it was lovely," she drawled deeply. "You were lovely."

He glanced at her from the side of his eyes. "Perhaps we could have a quiet dinner there alone again this week? Just the two of us?"

She squeezed his hand back, a playful tone returning to her voice. "Is that an invitation for a dinner date?"

He smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is." He felt butterflies flood his chest.

She whispered back. "I'll be all yours, Matthew Crawley." Mary squirmed a little in bed and made a mental note to find those silk stockings after all.

Matthew felt a tingle run though him as he held her hand and they drifted off, the sound of the rain pattering against the windows lulling them to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Downton Abbey – 1921

The early months in Mary's pregnancy had been easy, even charming, as her body began to reveal to the world what activity they had been up to in their bedroom—unabashed evidence of sex and intimacy. The initial changes to her figure had been endearing, even bewitching, as her abdomen began to form its shape around their child, and her fuller bosom and rounder cheeks softened her angular features in to a gentle appearance. When they made love in those early months it had been heady and intoxicating, the swell of her body and changes within her driving them both mad with need.

A simple walk on the estate had found them alone, surrounded by lush greenery and forest. He kissed her, his mouth covering hers as her hands found their way in to his hair, pulling him closer. He pushed her up against a tree and pressed himself together with her, groaning at the sensation of her fuller body and taste of her kiss. Her hands smoothed and caressed his chest and torso under his jacket and her fingers pulled at the buttons of his pants. He whimpered in to her primitively as his hands reached down and under the hem of her dress, touching her and slipping her undergarments aside, both of them breathing and panting heavily as he pushed inside of her.

Glancing down Matthew notice the swell of her lower body and slowed his movements. "Mary," he breathed against her mouth raggedly, "are you sure this won't hurt the baby?"

She smiled against his lips. "Yes, yes….it's alright darling." Her tongue lapped at his mouth as she spoke. "He is nestled safely inside of me."

And he was lost in her as they made love, sliding down to the soft, leafy floor of the forest. He thrust in to her, holding up one of her knees, so he could drive them to the edge of erotic release and back again. He loved the sound of her voice as Mary cried his name out, shuddering in release…pulling him with her until he was spent.

But as the months had passed her physical changes became more uncomfortable for her. Matthew had always heard the term 'big as a barn' used for expectant women; but he never really knew what that meant until his own wife was over nine months pregnant. The nine-month marker had come and gone, and she was still carrying their child. Her entire body seemed to be on the verge of bursting with pressure, and Mary was in a constant state of agitation and discomfort.

In those final days, Matthew had taken to sleeping in his dressing room, as much for her comfort in bed and his inability to do anything that would assist her. As he headed down to breakfast one morning, he stopped at her room to check in on her, knocking softly on the door.

Isobel's authoritative voice came from the other side of the door. "Come in…"

Matthew quietly opened the door, but rather than stepping inside, he peered around the edge of it. He saw his mother sitting beside the bed, where Mary was laid out, a wash cloth on her forehead. Anna was across the room tidying up a breakfast tray. "Good morning, ladies," he said tenderly as he finally stepped inside.

Isobel smiled over at him. "Oh, Matthew! Good morning my dear." The sound of his mother's voice was welcoming. "Come in!"

He stepped over to the bed. "Good morning, darling," he reached down for one of Mary's hands and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. "How's our patient doing this morning?" He spoke sweetly and smiled at her.

Mary looked and felt awkward and uncomfortable. "The same as I was doing yesterday and the same as I'll be doing tomorrow until I can divest myself of this baby already!"

Matthew glanced at Isobel from under his brow, sharing a knowing look with her. She spoke up to break the tension. "Oh, my dear I know it will be any time now."

Mary cringed, reaching up and touching the cool cloth on her head. "Oh, for heaven's sake Isobel, you've been saying that since last week!"

Isobel patted her arm sympathetically. "Yes, I know, dear, but it cannot be much longer, I'm sure of it. Today I'll help you take a careful stroll on the stair case. A little exercise like that is known to help babies along."

"Oh, God," Mary groaned as she rolled her expansive body over. "I just want this ordeal over with!" Her voice was raised. "I just pray that it is a boy so we will have our heir and our child."

Matthew felt useless so he made his apologies to leave. "Well, I suppose I should be off. Robert and I are meeting with the lawyers about my will now that the baby is, er…" he selected his words carefully, "due any moment."

He squeezed Mary's hand and as he turned to leave her hand reached out and clasped his tightly, stopping him from leaving, and tugging him back. She turned to look up at him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel badly or that this is your fault."

He smiled down at her, holding her hand in his. He bent down and kissed her lips. "Well, technically, it is my fault." At last, a smile made an appearance on her lips.

He stood to leave the room, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. As he walked down the hallway, happy to escape the proceedings, he heard the door open behind him and Isobel's voice. "Matthew!"

He stopped and turned. "Yes? What is it?"

She caught up with him. "I just wanted to say that all women go through this and Mary's behavior, and her irritability, is completely normal. So please don't take anything she says to heart too much. Alright?"

He returned her smile. "I know, Mother. I know she is beyond the pale and this is dragging on, and I will be as relieved as she is when this child is finally here."

"Good boy," Isobel said as she put an encouraging hand on his back.

Suddenly, down the hall, the door to Mary's room swung open and Anna came rushing down the hall toward them. "Mrs. Crawley! I think it's time!" Her voice was filled with excitement. "I believe her water has just broken!"

* * *

The Dorchester Hotel, London – 1935

The waiter stood in suspended animation in front of him as Matthew looked up at him. The waiter repeated his question. "I was asking, sir, whether or not you would like another whiskey?"

Matthew blinked back at him. "Oh, yes, of course. That would be very nice, thank you."

The waiter nodded and disappeared back to the bar. Matthew touched a hand to the knot of his necktie, glancing around the room. The lobby bar at the Dorchester was an elegant, oak paneled club room, with small tables, leather chairs, sprays of fresh flowers and waiters in white jackets. He drained the last drops of his drink and snapped his newspaper back open.

As he sat back he happened to notice that a young woman at the bar was looking in his direction. He glanced over his shoulder to see who she was looking at when it dawned on him that he was object of her attention. He turned back, somewhat bashfully, and smiled at her courteously; he felt smug in the knowledge that he could still turn a woman's head.

The waiter set a fresh drink down in front of him and as he returned to his paper he was distracted again, but this time by something much more inviting. He looked over the rim of the paper and saw Maggie entering the hotel. Her long blond hair was now shorter, with curls framing her face, and whisps of bangs over her forehead. With her hat and suit on she did, indeed, look more sophisticated and it slightly broke his heart. As she moved through the bar, carrying several shopping bags, he happened to see two university boys stopping to admire her, their heads turning to observe her from behind. He felt conflicted—on the one hand he was happy his daughter caught the eye of nice young men, and on the other hand he wanted to cross the bar and strangle them by their neckties. Instead, he stood up and pulled a chair out. "How lovely you look! At first I wasn't sure if it was my daughter or if Olivia de Havilland was entering the hotel."

Maggie giggled as she sat down. "You're making fun!"

He joined her. "A little bit, but you look lovely, sweetheart." He reached over and brushed his thumb over her chin.

She smiled back at him. "You really think so Daddy?"

"Absolutely! I will have to start carrying my cricket bat around to fend off the admirers."

Maggie laughed as the waiter set a tea cup in front of her. "We had our nails done! And wait until you see Mother. She looks gorgeous!"

He sipped his drink. "Well, she already is gorgeous, so I cannot fathom how there could possibly be any improvement to her beauty."

But he was wrong. His whiskey glass paused at his mouth and he had to do a double take at the entrance of the bar. Mary was being assisted by a bellman with several shopping bags. She was wearing a deep red suit and hat, and her hair was now dramatically swept to one side and held in place with a barrette; the style framed her face with soft curls, suggestively revealing her throat and then tumbled around her shoulders. Her whole appearance seemed somehow lifted and lighter. She smiled and laughed with the bellman, and Matthew felt the impulse to strangle him by his necktie, too. As she walked through the bar to join them, her body moved fluidly and elegantly, her long legs captivating in a pair of high heeled shoes that Matthew hadn't seen before.

She finally reached their table, and touched her hair self consciously. "Hello."

He stood and pulled a chair out for her next to his. "I'm so glad you're here. We were just talking about you." They shared a smile as they both took their seats, now oblivious to their daughter's presence.

Maggie interrupted them. "Do you mind if I go upstairs for a while and look at my new things?"

Without ever taking his eyes from Mary's, Matthew approved her request. "Yes, of course, go ahead." As they sat, neither seemed to notice when Maggie left, only that they were left alone.

"Well?" Mary started, slipping her black kidd gloves off and revealing shiny dark red fingernails. "What do you think? Do you like it?"

His eyes took all of her in and searched her face, following the frame of her hair. "I love it," he breathed out affectionately.

Mary angled her head slightly. "You're sure?"

His eyes held hers as his fingers grazed her hand and his thumb brushed over one red nail. His voice was deep and suggestive. "Yes, because now I can do this," he murmured as he leaned forward and grazed his lips against her throat, the curtain of her hair hiding his face.

Mary gasped. "Matthew!" Her eyes darted around the bar, trying to keep her voice down. "People are staring!"

He smiled against her as he spoke, his nose brushing against her soft tresses. "They're just jealous," he breathed hotly in to her ear.

Mary had to hold on to the table to keep from falling out of her chair.

* * *

**A/N** As you can see, this story will have flash backs incorporated in to their 1935 timeline to illustrate a few themes. I hope it doesn't get too confusing, but you get the drift here. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Maggie sat in an overstuffed chair, dressed in her robe and pajamas, looking up at her father as he finished putting the cuff links in the sleeves of his white dress shirt. "Someone looks like he is getting ready for date," she said teasingly up at him. "And you smell nice, too. Are you taking Mother out on a date?"

Matthew looked down at her as he finished with the last cuff link. "As a matter of fact I am." A twinkle danced in his eyes.

Maggie rested her head back on the chair. "Where are you taking her?"

He smiled as he picked up his black bow tie and looped it around his collar. "The Café Royal."

Maggie's eyebrows went up. "Oh, how nice. Do they have dancing there?"

"Mmm-hmm," he confirmed as he flipped the ends of the tie around.

"How romantic! Mother mentioned you have been there before together, so it's a special place for you. That's quite lovely, Daddy."

He smiled at her. "I'm so glad you approve. And you should be fine here in the room on your own."

She sighed, swinging a leg over the arm of the chair. "Oh, yes, I have a book going."

"Which one?" He was always interested in what she was reading these days.

"It's a new one. National Velvet."

Matthew tightened the tie, pulling on the ends. "Ah, the story of the thoroughbred."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Can you please bring me a dessert home?"

"Absolutely not! Can you see your mother and me walking out of the Café Royal with a dessert in a baggie?" Maggie dissolved in to laughter. He bent over and brushed a finger against her cheek. "Silly girl."

* * *

Downton Abbey – 1921

Matthew stood in the library with Robert, pacing pensively. Mary had gone in to labor hours earlier. "Why don't you suppose we've heard from someone? It's only one baby. Surely it cannot take this long?" He paused. "Something's the matter. I can feel it."

Robert put his hand out on Matthew's shoulder. "Let's not jump to conclusions, dear boy. There could be a hundred things that have taken longer than is typical."

Matthew's attention diverted across the room as Clarkson and Isobel arrived. He knew instantly that he had been right-something did not go as planned. He took several steps toward them, trying to control the panic in his voice. "Mary? Is she alright?"

Clarkson spoke quickly and comfortingly. "Yes, Lady Crawley is fine."

Isobel spoke up. "As is a lovely little baby girl." A sad smile trembled across her face.

Matthew looked at his mother. "A girl?" His face softened and the hesitant traces of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

She nodded. "That's right. A very beautiful seven pound daughter; who, I think resembles her father." She reached out and clasped her son's hand, holding on to it.

Robert exchanged a look with Clarkson. "But, I sense there is something else."

Dr. Clarkson seemed to steel himself. "I'm afraid so." He took a breath. "The little girl is fine. However, there was a second, a much smaller baby."

Matthew's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "A second child?" His eyes went back and for the between Clarkson and his mother. "Dear God, a twin?" For a brief moment his face revealed the lightest hope of delight.

"But I'm afraid," Clarkson continued, "the child did not survive. I tried everything I could, but to no avail." His expression was genuinely saddened.

Matthew persisted. "But why didn't we hear the second heart beat? Surely we would have?" He took a step toward Clarkson and Robert's hand gently reached out and touched his elbow.

Clarkson cleared his throat. "Because based on my examination of the child, I don't think there was a heartbeat, at last not for a long while." He looked earnestly at Matthew. "I'm so terribly sorry, Mr. Crawley. Truly I am."

Matthew took a step back and sat down in a club chair. "And my wife? How is Mary?"

Isobel put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, my dear, of course she's terribly upset." She knelt down in front of him. "But I think the two of you should take comfort in the fact that Mary is perfectly fine and your daughter is healthy, with ten beautiful fingers and ten beautiful toes." He bent his head down and Isobel consoled him to the best of any mother's ability.

Within several days, the immediate family stood in the small Downton cemetery, as the rain fell on a tiny casket. The vicar had recited the Lord's Prayer and a blessing, and now they stood in silence.

Matthew withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and began to read, his voice soft and emotional as the rain dripped down his face.

"I'll send you for a little time  
A child of mine, He said,  
For you to love the while he lives  
And mourn for when he's dead.

Now, will you give him all your love,  
Nor think the labor vain,  
Nor hate me when I come to call  
To take him back again."

But should the angels call for him  
Much sooner than we've planned,  
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,  
And try to understand."

When they returned home, Matthew and Mary retired early, withdrawing from the family to be alone. They had lived the last few days in silence, like ghosts. Mary slipped on her nightclothes and robe as Matthew reclined in an overstuffed chair by the fire.

He looked in to the fire, lost in thought, when suddenly he turned to Mary. "Where's Margaret?" He spoke quietly.

Mary's thoughts were preoccupied. "I suppose Nanny Crenshaw is taking care of everything." She turned to him. "Why do you ask?"

He stood up and opened the door and walked down the hallway. Entering the nursery, Nanny Crenshaw, a woman in her early thirties, stood up to greet him. "Good evening Mr. Crawley."

He nodded politely. "Good evening, Mrs. Crenshaw." He looked around, feeling unfamiliar with the nursery. He crossed to the bassinette, and looked down at the tiny bundle inside of it.

"Is there something wrong Mr. Crawley?"

Ignoring her, he reached down inside the crib and carefully lifted the sleeping baby out of it. He held her closely. "No, there's nothing wrong. I would just like to spend some time with my daughter." Matthew cradled the baby in his arms and left the nursery, returning to the bedroom.

Closing the door behind him, he returned to the seat in front of the fire, gently cuddling Margaret and cooing to her, his voice a gentle, comforting hush.

"What are you doing? I thought she was sleeping?" Mary walked over and looked down at the baby in his arms.

"I just needed to see her," he whispered, his eyes never leaving Margaret. "Her breathing is so rapid. I can feel her tiny lungs breathing in and out."

Mary sat on the arm of the chair beside him and smoothed a hand over his hair. "Yes, she is very tiny, isn't she?" She still felt slightly afraid of the baby, and was amazed at how comfortable Matthew was with it.

"I think she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Suddenly, without warning, the baby fidgeted and squirmed in his embrace. Matthew felt mesmerized as he watched two tiny blue eyes—his father's eyes—open and look up at him.

Mary put her arm around his neck and leaned over and whispered in his ear. "She looks like you."

His eyes welled with tears which he could no longer fight; tears of sadness, but also tears of relief and happiness. The baby sniffled and he bent his head and kissed her hands and forehead.

* * *

The Café Royal – 1935

Mary took another sip of her cocktail, glancing around the dining room and listening to the music, watching couples dance. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so complete and happy. She saw Matthew across the room walking back toward the table, her eyes grazing over his body, feeling a buzz of desire inside of her. As he sat down he leaned over and kissed her lips. Mary leaned her chin on a hand and eyed him. "Were you checking on Maggie?"

He looked at her reservedly. "Of course not."

She smiled. "I don't believe you."

He spoke more emphatically. "I was not checking up on her. She is far too old for that." He arranged his napkin in his lap and tutted with a sniff. "I merely called the hotel and had a chocolate gateau sent up to the room for her." He looked at her sheepishly as he sipped his brandy.

Mary chuckled and stretched her hand out to him, tugging him closer. "That means she'll also be wide awake when we get back to the room." She cocked an eyebrow in question to him.

He leaned over closer to her, his face only inches from hers. "You want to know what else I did when I called the hotel?"

She tilted her head. "Oh?" His eyes and voice had her hypnotized. "What?"

He bent and whispered in her ear. "I reserved a separate hotel room for us."

Mary felt her heart skip a beat. She pulled back and looked in to his eyes, which were dark and filled with love. "Matthew! A second room at the Dorchester?"

He brushed his lips against hers. "Well, Maggie's not an eight year old who sleeps through the night anymore."

Mary sighed against his mouth. "No, she isn't…

"And I don't think either of us can wait much longer." He kissed her cheek and then her ear, whispering deep and breathlessly to her. "And I intend to have you all night along."

Mary felt light headed as the warmth of his mouth and the image of his words made her nearly senseless. "Oh, God…." She turned to look at him, seeing the desire in his eyes and hearing it in his voice. "Then why are we still sitting here talking?"

* * *

**A/N** I know this backstory is a little bittersweet-but thanks for hanging in there. Thank you for reading! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Mary walked backward in to the hotel room, dropping her fur stole on to the floor as her lips were connected to Matthew's. He pulled away long enough to click a nearby lamp on. Mary immediately slipped her arms around his neck pulling him back in to her, her mouth finding his in a glorious kiss filled with tongues and wet heat. Her hands slid under his dinner jacket, smoothing it off his shoulders and on to the floor where it joined her fur.

Matthew wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands slipping over the black satin fabric, every contour and swell of her body detectable through the shiny silky material of her long gown. He groaned in to her mouth. "God Mary I want you…" his voice trailed off as he kissed her lips, jaw and throat, his hungry mouth sucking and caressing her skin. He was drinking her in, inhaling her scent and heady with desire and love for her.

She loved it when he was like this. When he needed it—when he needed her. She could tell he had to have it hard. She tugged at his bow tie and his hands smoothed over her breasts, feeling her through the fabric of her dress. Within moments, her gown tumbled to the floor and she reclined on to the bed, reaching to remove her heels.

He pulled off the rest of his clothes and began climbing over her. "Leave the heels on," he whispered against her lips with a smile. He leaned down on to her and she could feel his hard body against her abdomen, rubbing against her, the tip already leaving a slippery wet trail of his desire on her skin. He bent down and sucked one of her breasts, his tongue sliding around the rigid nipple.

Mary arched her head back. "Oh, Matthew….God, please." She was panting for him, her center hot and ready for him.

Matthew traced two fingers down to her middle and found her sopping wet as his fingers slicked through the luscious evidence of her love for him. He touched his fingertips to her engorged bud and tenderly stroked her until her hands frantically pulled at him. "Oh, Jesus, please, take me…"

He rubbed his wet fingertips over a nipple and sucked her essence from the stiff cameo tip. Her fingers were bunched in his hair, pulling him, making him smile against her nipple as he nipped it with his teeth. He kissed his way back up to her ear and whispered in a deep, raspy voice. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

She whimpered below him, wanting him…needing him as deep as he could take her. Matthew leaned over her and positioned himself to her entrance.

Mary abruptly froze.

He paused, his lips grazing against hers, his voice ragged and yearning. "What is it?"

She was panting, her chest heaving from wanting him so much. "Oh, God, I forgot to take care of…you know."

His brain was fogged with lust. "What?" He blinked trying to see her….really see her.

She kissed him and looked in to his eyes. "_You know_…the little thing that we use…that I…" she was waiting for him to register her hints.

"Oh…." He knew. "Yes, of course." He didn't care, because he would have loved another child; but he respected her hesitation. He kissed her again. "Is it in your evening bag?"

She shook her head in frustration. "No…" her voice was tight with want and need. Her body ached for him. Tears welled in her eyes from the heat inside of her.

He kissed her wet eyelashes and rested his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. His body was tormented with passion, his arousal so hard it made him dizzy. "Alright, darling…." He panted. "I just need a moment and I can go to the room…"

"No!" She was urgent with need and her hands moved lovingly over his torso. "Dear God, I need you so much." She slid one leg up around his thigh, her foot rubbing his calf, pulling him closer again.

He was so aroused he couldn't see straight. He kissed her again, his tongue sliding in to her mouth, murmuring against her lips. "If we make love there will be nothing between us."

Her head went back in to the bedspread. "Yes…"

He traced his tongue over her lips. "No barriers…nothing keeping us apart….my love buried deep inside of you."

"Yes…" she whispered up in to his mouth. Her hand slid down between them, running her fingers over his length. She caressed her hand over him and he twitched in her fingers, dripping on to her palm.

He began to slip inside of her, slowly pushing in until he was embedded, sheathed by her core. They began to move together, slowly at first and then faster, an intimate dance they had perfected over the years. His hips rolled forward and hers ebbed back. He reached down and lifted her leg up, spreading her wide open, hooking his arm under her knee. Mary gasped and clutched the headboard. "Oh, God…"

Matthew moved up on to his knees, bent over her, his hips thrusting harder. The bed shook with their movements. Mary's voice trembled, a song of ecstasy whimpered out of her throat. He braced himself and pounded her harder, his hips slamming in to her. "Oh, Jesus…Mary…"

She cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her, shaking her as he took her. "Oh, God, Matthew!"

His hips worked like a piston, ramming him in to her. "I'm so close…" Perspiration glistened across his brow and chest. His mind was flooded with images of their sex, their life, their love….more, more, more.

"Yes…" She wanted it, needed it….all of him. She couldn't remember the last time it had been like this. It was primal and untamed, both of them agonizing for their release. The bed jerked and shuddered beneath them…harder, harder, harder.

He spoke through clenched teeth. "Oh, God, if I don't pull out," he panted raggedly, "…going to make you pregnant!" The bed creaked and the frame began to crack, giving way from their passion.

As the bed cracked and broke to the floor, Mary was lost again, her body seized by shockwaves of release. She cried out in to the room. The sound of her cries, the bed breaking and the cresting of his own passion was more than Matthew could take. He lost control, his hips jerked as his body was racked with spasms, spilling in to her with his white hot climax. He cried out, filling the room with the music of his bliss, deliriously falling in to her…tumbling and toppling emotionally and physically until he skirted the edge of unconsciousness. He buckled on top of her, his head flopping on to her shoulder.

He lay still trying to catch his breath. The room was quiet except the sounds of their breathing and little words they murmured to each other. Mary pulled him to her and her limbs entwined with his. She ran a hand through his hair and kissed his head.

He nuzzled her neck. "Oh, Mary…" He breathed out. "Did I hurt anything?"

She hummed against him. "No, but we broke the bed."

"What?" He glanced around, blurry eyed, and then dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "Oh, dear God…"

* * *

Nearly fully dressed again, Matthew and Mary walked softly down the hotel corridor. She was carrying her shoes in one hand and her fur in the other, and he had his dinner jacket draped over one arm. "So," she whispered. "What did you tell the hotel manager about the bed?"

Matthew leaned toward her, whispering back. "Naturally, I told we would pay for it in full and then I did what any self respecting chap would do." He glanced around. "I told him Maggie did it."

Mary's eyes widened and she snickered. "You what? You blamed it on Maggie?" She huffed out a laugh. "Oh, Matthew!"

He shrugged. "I told him she jumped on it." A look of guilt covered his face. "I know it's terrible, but I couldn't very well tell him the truth, now could I?"

"Good God, how embarrassing." Mary rolled her eyes playfully as they arrived at their hotel room. She was having a hard time walking straight afterall.

He looked at her alluringly. "Regrets?"

She batted her eyes and whispered in a bawdy tone. "Never!"

Matthew smiled as he slid the key in to the door and held it open. Mary tip-toed inside with her shoes dangling from her fingertips. Matthew was right behind her. A lamp in a corner dimly lit the room as they quietly entered.

Maggie was sound asleep on the sofa, her book open on her chest. Mary stopped beside her, carefully picking up the book and folding it closed. An empty dessert plate with chocolate crumbs was on the end table next to her.

Matthew stood right behind Mary looking down. "She is so beautiful."

Mary leaned back against him. "Yes," she whispered longingly. "We'll miss her while she's in Paris."

"Mmmm," he nodded, his chin on her shoulder. He turned toward her ear. "Let's make another one just like her."

Mary chuckled softly and looked around to him. "Well we may very well have done so tonight!" Her eyes sparkled as she teased him.

Matthew tossed his jacket over a chair, and then pulled a blanket out of the armoire. He shook it open and draped it over Maggie's sleeping form, tucking it around her. He brushed several fingers through her short blond hair and bent down, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Maggie snuffled. Her blue eyes fluttered open and looked up at him sleepily. "Hello, Daddy."

"Shhhh... Go back to sleep," he whispered to her tenderly.

She rubbed one of her eyes and yawned. "Did you and Mother have a lovely evening?"

"Yes, of course we did." He bent down and kissed her forehead, feeling secret remorse for blaming her for the broken bed. He cringed inwardly, but pushed it aside.

"Was there dancing?" She looked up at him. Her brilliant, sleepy blue eyes were filled with enchantment.

"Yes," he whispered. "There was dancing." His fingers slid through her hair.

Maggie's eyes began to drift closed as her voice trailed off. "Thank you for my chocolate dessert…"

"You're welcome sweetheart." He kissed her hair. "Good night silly girl."

"Good night…" she mumbled as she fell asleep again.

By the time Matthew entered the bedroom, Mary was already in bed. He changed in to his night clothes and joined her under the covers. She snuggled up next to him and sighed. "She leaves tomorrow for Paris."

"Mmmm…" was all he could manage.

Mary looked up at him but he was already asleep. As she lay beside him, she felt the warm evidence of their love making deep inside of her. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. She thought about their evening, their recent days together in the city, and the lightening storm that seemed to altar so many things.

...and babies.


	7. Chapter 7

Downton Abbey – 1926

The afternoon sun warmed the autum chill as Mary and Matthew chatted with a breeder and inspected several thoroughbreds. The estate horses, including Diamond, were in the paddock, where stablehands were tossing fresh hay down. Maggie followed behind one of the grooms, happily clapping her hands and watching the proceedings, her stuffed bear tucked under her arm. Diamond was an old horse, and more easily agitated, but he was in retirement and content to spend his days eating and sleeping.

From out in the open yard, Matthew kept an eye on his daughter by periodically looking over, while Mary spoke the language of horses with the breeder. "Well, he's majestic," she said running the palm of her hand over the brown body of the big animal, "and so much larger than a regular horse. It's quite amazing." She glanced at Matthew. "What do you think, darling?"

His arms were crossed in front of him as he observed the meeting. He knew how to ride, quite competently, but he had little interest in horses so it was really Mary's world. But he still offered his opinion. "I think it will cost a fortune."

Mary smiled at him. "But it would be an enormous investment."

He eyed her. "Or an enormous risk."

She held his eyes, challenging him. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

Matthew laughed. "True." He exhaled thinking about it, when suddenly he was distracted by a sound in the paddock. It sounded like a horse banging against its stable. He turned to face the paddock. "Maggie?" He called out to her, but no reply came back. He took several small steps toward the stables. "Maggie?" He called out again, walking at a faster pace.

the banging bacame abruptly louder and suddenly blood curdling screams pierced the air. Matthew broke out in to a breakneck run, bolting for the paddock. "Maggie!" He cried out as he ran.

Mary raced after him, along with several other grooms, all running toward the terrifying sounds.

Loud banging sounds, and fierce horse cries, thundered through the air. As Matthew drew closer to the stable, he could hear the noises coming from Diamond's stable as stablehands were trying to get through the gate. Maggie was nowhere in sight, accept for her stuffed bear, lying on the ground outside the stable door. _Oh dear God_, he gasped to himself as he neared the skirmish.

Rounding the corner, he ran up to the Dutch gate of the stable. Diamond reared on his hind legs, holding his front legs up in the air and his eyes were wild with fury, and then thundered down hard against the floor. He kicked against the stable walls, snarling and whinnying loudly and fiercely. Matthew grabbed at the stable gate, but the immense horse rammed itself against it, splintering the wood. He couldn't hear Maggie's screams anymore.

His head snapped in both directions. He darted for the rifle case on the back wall, yanking one of the weapons in to his hand.

"No!" Mary screamed after him. "Don't shoot!"

Matthew cocked open the barrel of the rifle, checked it for a round, and snapped it shut. He threw the bolt on the stable door, pulling it open. As Diamond reared back up again, Mathew could see Maggie's crumpled body on the floor. He pulled the rifle up tightly against his shoulder.

"No!" Mary yelled after him as she rounded the stable.

He pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot cracked through the afternoon air, striking the grey beast in the head. Blood spattered and Matthew momentarily feared that the animal might stumble and fall on top of Maggie. The horse began spasming and sneering, stumbling to the floor. The groom standing beside Matthew held out a handful of shells. Matthew reloaded the rifle and pulled it up again, took aim and fired a second shot, followed by a third.

Diamond's immense body collapsed against the hay covered floor, blood pouring out his head and neck. Matthew moved quickly inside, kneeling down to check Maggie's wrist for a pulse.

Mary stood in the doorway, in shock. "Oh, dear God!"

The big horse moved. Matthew stood up and put the barrel of the rifle against its head and pulled the trigger.

Mary's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes shut in horror. Matthew tossed the rifle aside and it hit the floor with a loud, heavy thud. He bent down and carefully lifted Maggie's limp body in his arms. He shouted to one of the grooms. "Call the clinic in the village!" His breath was ragged with excitement and adrenaline. "Tell them I'm bringing my daughter!"

Within seconds Matthew was laying Maggie's body down in the back seat of the car and he climbed in to the front. Mary was sobbing and attempted to get in to the truck with him. Matthew ignored her and shut the driver's door and sped away toward the village.

Margaret Rose Crawley lay motionless in the back seat.

~oo~

When Mary arrived at the clinic with Robert and Cora, they found Matthew sitting in the waiting area. His head was in his hands, and he looked up to see them walking in.

Mary approached him, hatred filling her dark brown eyes. "How dare you not permit me to come to the hospital with my daughter!"

He stood to face her. "She could have died Mary." His hands were on his hips, holding his position. "And as I recall you were more interested in the well-being of your goddamned horse!"

Mary slapped him. Her voice was calm and rigid. "I'll never forgive you."

His cheek and his heart stung from her anger. He cocked his head, perspiration and anger covering his face. "Really? For which part? Bringing Maggie to hospital or shooting Diamond?"

Mary stepped up in to him, her voice rose and trembled with fear and anger. "What if a bullet had hit Margaret?! Did you ever consider that!"

Robert broke in between them. "Please, Mary." He put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Let's let Matthew explained what has happened." Mary looked at him. She bit her tongue and folded her arms across her chest, heaving with anger.

Robert looked at Matthew. "How is she?"

He reached a hand up to his forehead. "She has a concussion and her right arm is broken."

Mary's expression dissolved as tears began to flood her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She put a hand up to her mouth as if to push a sob back in to her throat. "Oh my God!" She was choking on the horror of it all.

He continued. "And there is something wrong with her spleen. They think it might be torn." He pulled a hand down his face.

Robert reached out and gripped Matthew's arm affectionately. "Are you alright my son?"

Matthews' eye searched the room, the lump in his throat twisting his words in to a whisper. "I only took my eyes off of her for a split second." He muttered apologetically as he pressed his eyes closed trying to control his emotions. "I should have been there...I should have been right there!"

Robert let out a breath. "Oh, Matthew…this wasn't your fault. It could have happened to anyone. Children love stables and horses. This was just a terrible accident and we're all fortunate that she will recover."

Tears streaked his face as he looked back at Mary. "Dear God, we almost lost her today." He bent his head down, inconsolable in his pain and guilt. He slumped back down in to the chair.

Mary leaned against her father as her sobs finally broke free from her heart.

~oo~

Four weeks later, Matthew was in the library finalizing the paperwork for the stables, shaking his fountain pen.

Mary looked exasperated. "Matthew, I am as upset about what happened as you are, but I still don't see what closing the stables will do?"

Matthew blotted the forms. "Diamond is gone and we chose not to pursue the thoroughbred breeding. We can employ the grooms elsewhere on the estate and it makes sense to shut the stables for now while Maggie is still so young."

Mary rolled her eye. "Please don't call her that name," she drew her fingers across her brow, "it's common."

Matthew looked at her out of the side of his eyes. "It was my grandmother's name."

Their argument was interrupted by a snickering sound that distracted them. They turned their heads, only to find the leaves of a potted palm fluttering. Matthew looked back at Mary and their anger faded as they shared a knowing smile. He silently pointed a finger toward the palm.

Maggie's face peeked through the palm fronds as she giggled. "I see you!"

"Alright you little spy, come out now," Mary called out after her.

Maggie hopped from behind the plant. She was wearing a yellow dress, which almost matched her hair. Her left arm was in a sling and a brace, which bobbed against her body as she skipped over to see them. "Here I am!"

Matthew knelt down and scooped her up in to his arms, peppering her cheeks and hair with kisses. Maggie squealed with laughter and delight, her healthy arm going around her father's neck affectionately, holding on to him tight. Mary couldn't help but love the sight of them together, admiring Matthew's ability to share his love so openly and freely.

The stables remained closed indefinitely with Mary's full support.

* * *

Victoria Station, London - 1935

Matthew held a suitcase in each hand as he walked along the platform toward the train. Mary and Maggie were directly behind him as they weaved their way around the hundreds of passengers all preparing to board the train to Paris. A porter stepped over and offered to take the bags from Matthew and he handed them over, reaching in to the breast pocket of his coat for the train ticket to reconnoiter with the porter.

Mary turned to Maggie. "Alright then, let me give you one last look." She smiled sentimentally as she assessed her daughter's appearance. Maggie wore a grey flannel afternon suit with white gloves and black patent shoes. Her new shorter hair was styled underneath one of her new hats. She did indeed, Mary thought, look more mature...a young woman now. "Alright then, let's see, something is missing I think."

Maggie's face fell. She reached up self consciously to her hat. "Oh, no. Is it my hair?"

Mary opened her hand bag and dug around, retrieving a small gold tube. "No, no, your hair looks lovely. But I think a bit of lipstick would do quite nicely."

Maggie beamed excitedly. "Lipstick! Really, Mother?"

"Yes, yes, now hold still," Mary instructed as she carefully ran the reddish pink lipstick over Maggie's lips. "Now, press your lips together to set it in place."

Maggie obliged, rubbing her lips together. "How do I look?" She smiled back at Mary.

Mary liked it and nodded in confirmation. "It's perfect!"

Matthew rejoined them and his attention was drawn to Maggie's lips, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "What's all over your mouth?"

Maggie proudly stood up straighter. "It's lipstick!"

He was taken aback. "Lipstick?" His mind immediately began to imagine all of the terrible things that accompany women wearing lipstick...like looking alluring and kissing.

Mary nudged him with her elbow. "Yes and don't make a thing of it." She turned back to Maggie, handing her the tube. "Here you are darling, now put that in yor purse."

Maggie suddenly threw an arm up in the air and called out. "Bill!"

Matthew had to step aside as his daughter breezed past him. He looked around to see Bill Whyte approaching. Matthew looked him over and was surprised to see that, indeed, he was nearly an inch taller than he was, and well dressed in a suit, white shirt and necktie. Matthew straightened his posture to appear taller.

Bill smiled slightly awkwardly but excitedly at Maggie. "Hello, Maggie! You've done something wonderful to your hair!"

She smiled demurely, reaching up to touch her head. "Yes, I had it done. I'm so glad you like it."

Bill nodded. "It's just swell! How was your week in London? Did they ever get the lights back on at Downton?"

"Oh, it's been lovely! And yes, I think Downton shines once again," she said laughing. She gestured to her parents. "You remember my parents?"

Bill greeted them politely. "Hello, Lady Crawley."

Mary smiled. "Hello Billy..er, Bill."

He extended his hand to Matthew. "Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley."

Matthew smiled perfunctorily to the young man, feeling his daughter was about to be swept off to Paris...taken away. "Yes, thank you. How nice it is that your and Maggie's class get's to travel to Paris together. It's such an academic city, filled with scholarly pursuits."

Billy turned to Maggie. "I have something for you." He reached in to his jacket pocket and withdrew a pink rose bud. He carefully held it out to her.

"Oh, Bill! It's lovely!" Maggie reached several white-gloved fingers to it.

"I was thinking you could wear it on your suit today?" Bill asked hesitantly. Maggie nodded enthusiastically and Bill began to attempt to place the rose bud somewhere on her suit jacket. He held the rose near the lapel, and then moved it lower, searching for the right spot. His hand floated just over her bustline, hovering near the swell of her breast.

Matthew' eyes narrowed and he fought the urge to punch the young man in the face. But he suddenly softened at the sound of Bill's voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so clumsy...I've never put a flower on a girl before." Bill blushed and stuttered awkwardly.

Matthew cleared his throat. "Here, I think I can help with that, Bill." He reached for the rose. "May I?"

"Oh, thank you, sir!"

Matthew took the rose bud and carefully situated it in to the button hole on the lapel of Maggie's jacket. "There you are."

The whistle blew and the porter called for all passengers, announcing the train's departure. Mary hugged Maggie. "Have a wonderful time, darling! Bon voyage!" Maggie laughed and hugged her tightly in return.

Matthew shook Bill's hand again and then looked at Maggie. "Have a lovely time, dear."

She looked up in to his eyes. "Thank you, Daddy. And thank you for such a wonderful week in the city!"

He shrugged bashfully. "Well, it probably won't compare to Paris, but I'm glad you and your Mother and I had this time together." He reached in to his pants pocket. "I have something else for you." He pulled his hand out and held it out to her.

Maggie looked down and saw the small stuffed toy puppy. "Daddy, isn't that the toy Mother gave you when you went away to the war?"

He nodded. "Yes, it is. It's for good luck and I just thought that in case you feel a bit homesick, he might perk you up a bit. He accompanied one Crawley to France before, so it makes sense he can do it again." He smiled down at her.

She took the toy tenderly and carefully put it in her purse.

The porter shouted over toward her. "Come along miss!" The train whistle blew, reverberating loudly around the station.

Maggie looked up at him. "I love you, Daddy!" She reached up and hugged him tightly. And then she was gone.

Matthew and Mary stood on the platform as the train slowly pulled away, steam billowing around their legs. Maggie stood on the steps, holding on to a railing and waving at them before finally turning and disappearing inside. The train sped up as it left the station, winding around the track and heading east.

Matthew lowered his hand as he and Mary stood alone. "I suppose she'll have her first glass of wine." He said, sighing.

Mary folded her hands on front of her. "And probably her first kiss." Mary looked up at him. "But I like him."

Matthew nodded begrugingly. "Yes, I suppose he is a nice lad." He exhaled and turned to Mary. "So, we'll be all alone at Downton for three weeks."

She walked beside him as they walked toward the car. "I was thinking of surprising Maggie and having her room redecorated while she is away. You know, maybe a few more grown up things in it." She continued hesitantly. "And helping Nanny Crenshaw find a new post."

Matthew stopped and looked at her. "So you have changed your mind?"

Mary shrugged. "Yes, I suppose it's time. Besides, I liked the time we had this week together."

He put his arm around her. "I'm so glad." They walked arm in arm. "I liked the time you and I had together this week, too."

She smiled up at him as they walked. "That sounds suggestive. Are you thinking of breaking more furniture?"

He laughed. "Well, we do have Downton all to ourselves...so one never knows."


	8. Chapter 8

As the next few days passed, Downton Abbey seemed empty to Matthew. Maggie was just beginning her adventures in Paris, and Robert and Cora were half way around the world on the grand tour. So he and Mary went about their normal routines again. He reviewed work around the mansion, and various legal matters pertaining to the estate, while Mary actually cancelled several committee meetings and dinner affairs so she could focus on re-decorating Maggie's room.

Wandering upstairs to freshen up before dinner, Matthew stopped by Maggie's room. He peered in and saw that several crates of new linens had arrived and a ladder stood by the window where new curtains would be hung in the morning. Glancing down, Matthew's eye was caught by a stuffed orange striped kitten that had been tossed in to a box. He reached down and lifted it up in his hand, immediately recognizing its familiar face.

* * *

Downton Abbey – 1931

Matthew sat reading in his robe and pajamas. He was reclined in a chair in the master bedroom as the fireplace crackled in front of him, warming his feet which were propped-up on a foot stool. Mary was in London shopping with Aunt Rosamond, so he and Maggie held down the fort at Downton.

Maggie's voice came from just outside the door, which was ajar. "Daddy?" Her voice was soft but urgent.

"Mmmm-hmmm?" he mumbled as he was immersed in his novel. He turned a page oblivious to his daughter's inquiry.

Maggie peered around the edge of the door, speaking slightly louder. "Daddy?"

His eyes were glued to the page he was on. "Yes, what is it," he said distractedly, not really acknowledging her.

"Daddy I think something is wrong with me."

He finally paused to look over at her, slightly irritated at the interruption. "Yes, Maggie, what is it?"

She clung to the door, nervous and fidgity and tightening her robe. "I think something's wrong with me."

"Yes, well, have you called for Nanny Crenshaw?" Matthew was turning another page, trying to return his attention back to his book.

"It's her night off," Maggie whispered, rubbing her cheek against the door. "But I think something is terribly wrong."

Matthew exhaled and closed the book, keeping one of his fingers in place as a book mark. "Yes, well, darling what the devil is it?"

She stepped over to him. "I think I'm dying," she whispered somewhat panicky.

Now she had his attention. "What?" He looked at her earnestly. "What are you talking about? Healthy eleven year-old girls don't die out of the blue."

Maggie sheepishly tilted her head to one side. "There's blood in my toilet." Her expression was awash with dread and embarrassment.

Matthew's eyebrows knitted in concern. "What? Where? Show me." He stood up and followed Maggie to her bathroom.

As they entered the lavatory, she walked over to the toilet. "See? Here…" She awkwardly pointed downward.

Matthew looked down in to the bowl, where the water was, indeed, red. _Dear God, a hemorrhage_, he thought as he felt his heart rate speed up. He was slightly panicky but wanted to stay calm for his daughter's sake as well as his own. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Maggie pulled her robe tighter and spoke with a self conscious tone to her voice. "While I was going to the lavvy, I noticed something red on the tissue." Tears began to well in her eyes.

Suddenly it dawned on Matthew what the most likely reason for this was, but he had to be sure. Having been a husband for eleven years, and the son of medical professionals, he knew what questions to ask. He spoke softly and tenderly. "Maggie, do you have a tummy ache down here?" He placed the palm of his hand on her abdomen.

She nodded as tears now trickled down her cheeks. "Yes," her voice caught in her throat as she replied. She raised a hand to her face to wipe her tears away.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bathtub and gently took her hand pulling her to stand beside him. "And do you feel any tenderness anywhere else, darling?" He rubbed a hand over the top of her head.

She nodded, whispering to him shyly. "Yes, here," she replied, resting a hand on her chest. She began to cry in earnest now. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so afraid I'm dying!"

"No, no," he said encouragingly. "Now come here." He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her affectionately. "I am most certainly positive that you are not dying." He ran a finger along her hairline and tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her ear.

She sniffled. "Then what is it?" She looked distraught.

"Well," he started, "This is what happens when young girls become young ladies. It's a sign that you are maturing and growing up." He hugged her to him and kissed her head.

Maggie wrapped her arms around him but looked confused as her crying subsided. "So it's a normal thing?"

He rested his head against her forehead. "Yes," he whispered. "It will happen every month and it is entirely normal."

She pulled her head back and looked at him in doubt. "Are you sure? Maybe it's something no one has ever heard of before?"

He smiled. "I doubt it but we are going to call Grand-mama Isobel and have her come over to conduct a second opinion. However, I am quite confident my diagnosis is one hundred percent accurate." He smiled at her, realizing that it would not be long before her little-girl appearance would soon vanish forever.

Maggie rubbed her nose with her hand. "Does Mother do this, too?"

He rubbed her back. "Yes, she does this every month. All ladies do, until they are a certain age, and then, someday when you much older, just as magically as it started, it will magically stop." He drew the palm of his hand over her head again. "Hasn't your mother or Nanny Crenshaw ever mentioned anything of this to you?"

Maggie thought for a moment. "Well, Mother has mentioned something about lady things…but…" her voice drifted off. "Maybe I haven't been paying attention like I should have been?" She rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's alright, darling. It will all be alright." He soothed her with a kiss to her forehead.

~o~

An hour later, Matthew sat in front of the fire again, waiting for Isobel to complete her conversation and assessment with Maggie. He had tried to refocus on his book again, but was preoccupied. He stood up as his mother quietly entered the room, his voice filled with expectancy. "Well? Was I right?"

Isobel smiled. "Yes, my dear, all is well. Margaret is perfectly healthy, but she has, indeed, begun to grow up."

Matthew slumped back down in to the chair. "Oh, thank God, because frankly a part of me was worried that it really might be something more serious."

Isobel sat down on the chair beside him. "No more serious than a little girl developing in to a woman." She reached over and patted his hand, rubbing it affectionately. "I'm proud of you Matthew. You did a very nice thing this evening. Not very many fathers would have tried to explain the feminine mystique."

He drew a hand over his face. "Thank you, Ma-ma."

"And you can rest assured that the conversation about sex went perfectly fine."

Matthew looked at her from the side of his eyes. "What conversation about sex?"

Isobel smiled. "Well, after I explained to Maggie about this new change to her body, she asked me if this was a part of how babies are made, so I said yes and answered her questions."

Matthew looked angst-ridden. "What questions?"

Isobel shrugged. "I told her that sex is completely normal and wonderful and that everyone does it."

Matthew cringed. "I don't want her thinking it's wonderful, Mother…at least not until she's, you know, sixty or seventy."

Isobel laughed. "She asked me if you and Mary do it."

His eyes flew open. "What did you say?"

"I told her that, yes, of course, all married couples do." Isobel was filled with delight at the whole experience. "I explained that the process is quite magical."

Matthew frowned. "I don't want anything magical happening to her, thank you very much." His head fell back on to the chair. "Oh, God, I need a brandy."

"Oh, don't be a pout. It's good for young women not to be raised thinking of all of this as some curse or a chore. We must be more modern in our thinking these days. How would you have felt if Mary thought that way?"

Matthew looked exasperated. "That's completely different." The thought of boys having sexual expectations toward Maggie crept in to his mind making him wince again. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick."

Isobel chuckled. "Oh, Matthew, you'll be fine. Just remember that Maggie will need you. Mary is wonderful, but let's be honest—her upbringing was more involved with nannies, whereas you suffered through many more talks with your father and I." She pulled her gloves on. "And young ladies shouldn't be learning everything from their nannies, should they?"

Matthew glanced over at her. "No, I suppose you're right." His face softened as he looked at her. "Thank you for coming over, Ma-ma. It was so kind of you."

"Oh, I'm just glad you called me. I love being a grandmother almost as much as I love being your mother." She sighed in thought as she stood up. "I'm just sorry your father isn't here." She looked up at Matthew, who now stood beside her. "He loved you so very much, and he would have loved knowing your daughter."

Matthew rubbed her arm and grinned. "His granddaughter, who looks just like him, you mean."

'Yes," Isobel nodded, "quite right."

After Isobel left, Matthew made his way to Maggie's room. He put a knuckle to the door and quietly knocked. "Come in…" Maggie was lying in bed, under the covers. She had an orange stuffed kitten in bed with her that Isobel had brought over.

Matthew slowly opened the door and walked in, his hands shoved in to his pockets. "Is everything alright sweetheart?"

She nodded. "Yes, Granny Isobel gave me some ladies things and explained everything. And she even brought me a stuffed kitty." She smiled warmly at him holding up the toy. "I'm so glad she was here."

He nodded slightly awkwardly, rising up and down on his toes. "I'm glad, too." He walked closer to the bed. "Can I get you anything? Tea, perhaps?"

She shook her head in the pillow. "No, thank you." Maggie's fingers toyed with the stuffed kitty. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"This doesn't change anything between you and me, does it?" She looked up at him with a worried look.

"What? Absolutely not!" He sat down on the edge of the bed. "What would make you ask me that?"

"Well, it's just that, now that I'm growing up, does everything have to change? You know, like flying kites?"

He smiled at her. "No, it doesn't have to change. We can fly kites for the rest of our lives. And someday, when you have a family, we'll all fly kites together."

She smiled up at him. "I'm so glad." She slid her hand in to his trustingly and Matthew felt a tiny piece of his heart break in to a thousand pieces. Up until now, he had protected her from the world; now he would do everything in his power to protect her from heart break…and from growing up to fast.

* * *

Matthew still stood in the doorway to Maggie's room holding the stuffed orange kitten. Mary's voice pulled him back to the present. "There you are. I've been looking for you. Something on your mind?" She busied herself with another box of new items for the room.

"I was just thinking I should write to your father and let him know everything is fine."

She turned an smiled. "They're in Australia. I know they'd love another letter. With the new Airmail service they'll have it within two weeks." She paused and brushed the dust from her hands and skirt. "Are you changing for dinner?"

He looked over at her and shrugged. "I don't know. How do you feel about dining in the clothes we have on?" He gingerly set the stuffed kitten on the night stand beside the bed.

Mary looked surprised, gesturing to her skirt and sweater set. "You mean like this?" She was nonplussed.

He stepped over to her. "Yes, just like this." He kissed her cheek. "It's just you and me for now. And when my father used to come home from work he ate dinner in the suit and tie he had on every night of his life…some people do dine that way, darling. Perfectly lovely people, in fact." He chided her.

She smiled as he slid his arms around her. "Well, I suppose we could." She circled her arms around his neck. "Maybe we could have dinner trays served up in our sitting room by the fire?"

He kissed her neckline. "Yes, that sounds precisely like what I had in mind."

Mary sighed in his arms and at the thought of their intimate dinner together upstairs. She could get used to this...

* * *

**A/N** Coming soon...M/M find new and secluded places in an empty abbey to explore. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** The attic of Downton Abbey conjurs up all sorts of fic ideas doesn't it? Keep reading. :)

* * *

Matthew took the steps up in to the attic at Downton, breathing heavily. Mary's voice rang out from above him. "It took you long enough! What are you, eighty?" Her voice was bright and clearly announced she was wearing her smarty-pants.

"Do you recall how long it takes to completely traverse this house from one side to the other?" He breathed out as he topped the stairs.

Mary stood in front of a sheet-covered obstacle, wearing a skirt and sweater set with pearls. She turned to face him, her arms crossed in front of her and smiling. "Don't be silly. I've made the trip a thousand time." She waved him over excitedly.

He stopped beside her. "Alright, already, I'm here and at your disposal." He propped his hands defiantly on his waist. "There better be something really exciting under that tarp."

She looked up at him flirtatiously. "Define 'really exciting'."

He loved her when she was in these moods. It made his blood tingle, along with other parts of his body. He thought playfully, glancing up at the ceiling momentarily, and then back at her. "An undiscovered Van Gogh."

Mary chuckled. "I'm redecorating our daughter's bedroom, not the Tate Gallery. Guess again."

He played along, wanting to kiss her but refraining. "Something as lovely as the young woman whose room it will be ensconced in?"

Mary's eyes sparkled up at him. "Perfect answer," she announced as she reached over and dramatically flung thewhite sheet off the item and up in to the air. Matthew's attention turned and he was immediately impressed at the antique French Provincial vanity. It was creamy white with subtle gold leaf trim around the small drawers; the top was complete with pale pink Italian marble.

"Oh, my, Mary," he was slightly speechless as he walked around the vanity, admiring it. "This is exquisite! Wherever did you get this?"

She loved watching him walk around as he assessed her restoration efforts. Her expression revealed how pleased she was at his reaction and with herself. "It's been up here for years. I asked Henderson to help me strip it, and then I re-painted it."

Matthew looked at her in shock. "You?" He was completely stunned. "You re-finished this piece of furniture?" He pointed at the vanity.

Mary looked slightly offended. "Well Henderson did the really hard part, and then I did the painting. But you don't have to sound so dismayed, Matthew. Honestly," she rolled her eyes. "What's unbelievable about me recreating this lovely treasure?" Her fingers toyed with her pearls.

His face softened. "Absolutely nothing is unbelievable with it. I'm just surprised, and delighted, that's all. So, this is where you've been disappearing to for the past week and a half." He walked around the vanity back to her side. "You've never struck me as the," he searched for the words, "...the furniture refinishing type." He couldn't hold back his kiss any longer, and leaned over and pressed his lips to her cheek.

She smiled and felt warm and pleased with herself. "I've always liked this vanity. It belonged to my great-aunt."

Matthew was curious. "Violet's sister?"

She nodded. "Yes, Claire. Sybil takes after her." She clasped her hands behind her back, a little lost in memory. "She was quite beautiful and a trailblazer. She married an American, a publisher, and made her home in the new world. I thought Maggie's room seemed like just the right place to bring it back to life. I'm having the vanity stool upholstered in blush-pink velvet, to match the marble." She ran a fingertip lovingly over the top of the vanity.

He put an arm around her and kissed her cheek again. "She'll love it!" He kissed her again. "And I love you for doing such a wonderful and memorable thing for her."

Mary looked up expectantly. "You really think so?"

He grinned and rubbed her lower back with his hand, making a large comforting circle, just above her bottom. "I know so. She's had her eye on your vanity for years." He leaned his forehead against hers. "But what will touch her the most is that you gave this lovely, family heirloom a second chance just for her."

Mary smiled, the feel of his hand on her back creating a buzzing feeling deep inside her ...it was from his hand, wasn't it? "I hope so. It is a pièce de résistance." She looked up at him again, putting her hand in his. "There's another lovely old jewel up here." Her voice was deep and inviting. "Would you like to see it?"

He glanced at her earnestly. "Yes, of course." She took him by the hand and led him through the large attic. The afternoon sun filtered through a few small windows, illuminating the storage space which was filled with boxes, art work and furniture draped with sheets. Finally they came upon a secluded corner, where Matthew smiled mischievously at the sight of an enormous vintage four poster bed.

Mary nudged him. "Rumor has it King George had a tryst in this bed."

He eyed her. "Just one?"

She gently pushed him until he bumped against the frame. "...and George Washington slept in it during a brief visit."

He smiled at her, an old familiar feeling rising in his soul. "Ah, interesting; Georges a deux. And did President Washington have a tryst in it as well? Don't Tread on Me, and all that?"

She ran her hands up over his chest. "That's what they say."

He leaned back on to the bed, on to his elbows, stretching out before her. "A king and a president. Must be some bed."

Mary crawled on top of him, gently pushing him to lie back. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" The attic was quiet, except for the sounds of their breathing, murmuring and gentle movements on the mattress. She slowly smoothed the palms of her hands over his thighs, and up over the front of his pants, her palm caressing him through the fabric.

He laid down on his back and chuckled softly. He sighed at the feeling of her hovering over him, and her touch to his body. "Again?" He laughed out loud tenderly. "Darling, we were just together this morning."

"Do I detect a grievance?" Her voice was teasingly seductive.

"No," he whispered, relishing the way her hand rubbed over his front, tantalizing him. His eyes closed at the sensation. "More of an observation." They had made love more frequently since Maggie was gone, which was fun and more spontaneous as they were alone. But he noticed her desire-need?-for it was increasing.

Mary moved further up his body. As her hand caressed him she could feel him respond. Her hand moved lovingly up and down the fly of his trousers, pressing against his arousal, as her fingertips grazed down between his legs and back up again. "Oh? An observation of what?" She leaned down and touched her lips to his, brushing their mouths together.

He moaned softly and mumbled against her lips as they kissed. "As I recall, the last time you initiated this much marital congress was when you were..." He let his sentence drop off, waiting to see if she could interpret his meaning.

"What?" Her voice was filled with breath and lust.

"It was when you were..." he moved a hand up to her face, stroking her cheek and looking affectionately up in to her dark brown eyes. "..._expecting_." The word wafted between them like a summer zephyr.

Mary kissed him. "I think you are just reading things in to it all, Mr. Bedbreaker." She sat up and slipped her sweater off over her head, leaving her pearls on around her neck. "And what the devil is marital congress? Is that a law?" She looked at him with a glint in her eye. "At the Dorchester you called it fu..." The word was cut off by his fingers.

He laughed as his other fingers worked the button on the side of her skirt. "Maybe...then again," he was cut off by her mouth which slid over his. The tips of their tongues playfully circling around each other and searching in to each others mouth, wanting more...always more. Matthew's hands swept up and over her back, pulling her against him. Feeling her and tasting her was an aphrodisiac, an ambrosia in his mouth and his senses.

Mary didn't even bother to remove her skirt. She spread her legs over his hips, her fingers unzipping his trousers and finding him ready and hard. As she shifted above him he helped her adjust her skirt up around her thighs, his hand slipping between her legs. She whimpered at his touch and moved her lap until he was sliding inside of her. She rested back down on top of him, driving him deep in to her body.

A groan murmured up from his throat. "Mary..." His eyes rolled up in to his head. As Mary watched him she felt herself aroused beyond all comprehension, dripping shamelessly over their joined bodies. He was erotic perfection, writhing beneath her and hard as steel up inside of her. She felt she could fall apart just from looking at him as her hips began to move in a rhythm that he found with her as his hands gripped her. She was spellbound as her movements drove him further in to the depths of ecstasy and her body. He tried to move, to roll over on top of her, but she was having nothing of it. Her hands clasped his and held them above his head, against the mattress.

In the midst of this exotic whirlwind he chuckled. "God, Mary..." he panted, "you will be the death of me." The truth was, he liked it when she took control. She didn't do it all the time, but when she did, it was always memorable for both of them, and he felt a new memory building in his sex. His eyes slipped open, looking up at her. Her new shorter hair framed her face and the pearls glistened around her neck. "I love you."

She leaned forward and kissed him, open-mouthed and wet, swallowing his endearment. "And I love you," she whispered in return. She moved faster, her hips rolling forward and back purposefully. She felt freer, lighter and younger. "Matthew...you feel so delicious inside of me, darling...so incredibly hard." She ached for as much of him as she could get.

His hands clasped hers tighter, hanging on as he felt himself about to slip off the edge. It didn't take much these days, he mused. "I can't..."

"I've got you..." she panted out just above his mouth, their breaths mingling with each other. "It's alright to let go." She huffed with exertion. "Please, let me see you...let me feel you."

His face was pure lust and imminent release as his brows wrinkled. He strained to extend their passion, his fingers clinging to her. His breath hitched in his throat. "I want..." he was pleading for it.

Mary increased her movements and suddenly his body arched up in to hers, his hed thrown back in release. His hands gripped her arms as he cried out. "Ah, Mary! God!" The sweet cry of his peak filled the air as his hot seed filled her body. His cries pulled her with him and she tumbled and bucked against him, sobbing out in wonderful, heavenly rapture, falling against him. Her heart pressed against his.

They lay quietly catching their breath, their slippery wet centers still lazily connected. One of Matthew's hands rubbed her arm and the other slipped in to her hair. "Have I mentioned that I love your shorter hair?" He asked quietly.

She sighed contentedly against his shoulder "I'm so glad." The attic was now quiet again. She pressed a kiss to his neck. "And what if you are right?"

He cleared his throat, cuddling her to him. "About the bed you mean? Yes, the king and the president were right-it's amazing."

She huffed softly. "No, I mean about the other thing..."

His eyes blinked open and he angled his head to look at her. Her luscious brown eyes gazed at him, glittering in the soft light. "Well, if it's a boy we could always name him Dorchester."

Mary giggled and hugged him tightly.

_...if it's a boy. _ She wondered...indeed.

* * *

**A/N** Post Script - thank you for reading. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Downton Abbey – 1921

Matthew remembered correctly. When Mary had been expecting Maggie, their intimate life experienced a significant upturn. He recalled one morning in particular when he had padded in to his bathroom in his dressing gown and slippers and was surprised to hear the shower running. Shutting the door behind him, he stepped over toward the shower and leaned an ear to it, a suspicious smug smile on his face. "Mary?"

"Yes?" Her voice was deep and darling.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "When did you start using this shower in the mornings?"

There was a slight pause and then she answered. "Since I started having trouble getting in and out of the bath tub."

Matthew knitted his brows. "Oh? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not anything serious, really. The shower is just so much easier these days."

He smiled. "You should tell me when you need help with things, Mary. I'm your husband, it's alright to ask for help, you know."

"Alright," her feminine arm reached out from behind the shower curtain and her fingers tugged the lapel of his robe, "if you are offering I could use some help washing my back."

He smiled down at the hand grabbing him knowing precisely where this was going lead. He shrugged to himself and slipped his robe off. He put a hand to the shower curtain and pulled it back, revealing Mary standing in the middle of the shower, her hair tucked up in to a pink shower cap. He hadn't seen her fully undressed during the day since the early months of her pregnancy; but now, three months later, her body no longer held a secret. Her waist had expanded to accommodate her fuller figure, a rounded abdomen and larger breasts.

She still felt modest. Being undressed in front of Matthew at night, in their bed, seemed different somehow, and less exposed; and lying down made everything less obvious. But nudity in the brightness of day seemed awkward, yet she managed a smile at him anyway. "I know at seven months everything has changed a bit," she said self consciously under the rain from the shower.

"It's alright," he replied sincerely stepping in to join her. He smiled and reached for the bar of soap in her hands. "Here, let me."

"Yes, but at night everything is slightly different." She stood in front of him with her hands clasped in front of her.

He rolled the soap between his hands until thick sudsy foam oozed between his fingers. "It's not _that_ different, darling," he chided her teasingly, noticing that her nipples were puckered and firm. "Now turn around."

Mary obliged and turned to face the tile, her back to Matthew. He carefully massaged his hands from her long neck down over her back, moving his palms up over her shoulders and then down her spine and the sides of her midsection. One of his hands smoothed down over the cheeks of her bottom.

"Matthew!" She said looking back him over her shoulder with coquettish eyes. "What are you doing?"

He smiled up at her. "What? You said you needed a hand, so I'm giving you one." His hands gently nudged her shoulders, turning her back around to face him. He rolled the bar of soap between his hands again creating more suds and then gently smoothed the lather over her shoulders and tenderly down her front. As his hands moved over her breasts he loved how full and heavy they felt in his hands, his fingers grazing over the taught tips. He bent down and took one tenderly between his lips and suckled it, circling his tongue around it. Mary's eyes closed in heavenly bliss at the sensation—her nipples were more sensitive now and as he suckled her she thought she could peak from it alone.

As the warm water cascaded over them, white bubbly rivulets of water ran down the length of Mary' body; it flowed over her waist and down her legs to her feet. He knelt down in front of her, gently massaging his hands over her belly and as the water washed away the foam he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her rounded abdomen.

Mary rested a hand in his hair and leaned back against the tile, which was now warm. The feel of his lips on her midsection was warming her more than the shower. His soft lips caressed over her skin and his tongue traced the rim of her belly button, eliciting a chuckle from her and a smile from him. She suddenly realized his hands were between her legs, his fingers stroking up the inside of her thighs. Mary felt him touch several soapy fingers over her curls and between her legs and she groaned aloud.

Matthew smiled up at her. "Feel good?"

She was beyond speech and simply nodded her head against the tiles and murmured her encouragement. "Yes, please…"

Her sweet plea endeared him, as though he were offering her his hand in the park. He leaned down, angling his head, and lapped tentatively at her slippery folds, his tongue finding her. The steady cascade of water ran down over her sex, and he could taste her essence intermingled with the water. He hummed softly in to her as his tongue circled around her clit.

Mary panted and her hand bunched in his hair. "Matthew," she breathed out alluringly. "Oh my God."

He reached an arm around her hips to support her and busied his tongue, lovingly giving her the ecstasy her body craved. As he felt himself grow painfully hard one of his hands moved down to his center to stroke himself, relieving some of the pressure he felt coiled in his body.

Mary reached up with a hand and slid her shower cap off. As she pulled it away her hair tumbled down over her shoulders, becoming wet in the spray of the water. She groaned at the sensation of Matthew's ministrations. "Matthew, please…." She was begging him.

His hands reached up and carefully took her hands in his, nudging her downwards. As Mary knelt down next to him, she chuckled aloud. "I'll never be able to get back up again."

He smiled as he reached for a towel. "We'll get back up together." He tossed the towel down and it became wet with the water. Mary lay down on her back and reached a hand out to him. Matthew lifted her knees, opening her up to him, and carefully, slowly eased his body inside of her.

Her back arched in pleasure and fullness. "Oh, darling, God yes…" It was a prayer she uttered only to him and it made his body shudder with anticipation. In her current and more delicate condition Matthew was careful with her, slowly moving his body in and out of hers. He was leaning slightly forward on his knees, bracing himself with his hands on her legs, his hips gently driving them both to the edge which was coming quickly. She looked up at him and found his head back on his shoulders, as the water sprayed over his beautiful face.

"Oh, Mary…" he couldn't finish the sentence. His tongue was held hostage by his desire, which gripped him and flared inside of him. He bent over her, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders and her round belly pushing up against him. He thrust faster. He panted his question to her before he lost all reason. "Am I pushing too hard?"

"No, no…it's so wonderful." She was writhing beneath him, steam rolling up all around them. "Give me all of it." She shuddered and arched her neck and came to him, her hands clamped around his forearms.

He moved faster and faster, drawing out her peak as long as he could until he couldn't hold back his own orgasm any longer. He felt a spasm in his sac and he was lost. "Aaaahh!" He cried out, his voice echoing in the shower as his body emptied itself in to her.

She opened her eyes to see his face grimaced in his release and the sight was so overwhelming she felt herself buck against him again, another peak escaping her. Mary sobbed in release, pulling him down on to her. Matthew slumped over her, trying to hold himself up as they both finished falling, gasping for air.

He panted and tried to catch his breath, dropping his head to her shoulder. Mary rubbed her hands over his back and murmured to him. "There's something about being in this condition that makes it so intense." They lay together as the water sprayed over them.

He sighed and kissed her neck and just as he touched his lips to her skin he felt it—a movement from within her body. He paused and glanced down and then back up at her in amazement. "Did you feel that?"

Mary chuckled and nodded her head. "Yes!"

Matthew brushed a hand over her tummy feeling the movement under his palm. "Oh, my God." He looked at her slightly panicked. "Did we do something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No." She giggled. "I think he might be ready for breakfast."

Matthew cocked his head. "_He_?"

* * *

Downton Train Station – 1935

They walked toward the train platform. Matthew was dressed in a summer suit with a snap-brim, and Mary wore a dress and matching hat. She glanced at her watch again.

He smiled at her. "That's the tenth time you've checked the time in as many minutes. It's alright; the train isn't due for another five minutes."

Mary huffed in anticipation. "I just hope they aren't delayed or held up anywhere. She's already been gone a month."

He patted her back. "When are you planning to tell her about the baby? Right away?"

She looked up at him in astonishment, adjusting her purse on her elbow. "What? And take away from all my hard work on the vanity and trump that surprise?" She tutted. "Not on your life. News of the baby can wait."

He thought about it. "Yes, well aside from the aptly named vanity surprise, I think she's just had one of the most exciting months of her young life and we might give her a chance to share her exciting adventures first. And we can tell later this evening, or even tomorrow morning." He rubbed her hand. "So we're in agreement we give her a chance to be an only child for just a little while longer?"

Mary smiled as his hand slipped in to hers, lacing their fingers together. "I quite agree."

The train whistle blew from down the track and they could hear the fast approaching sound. Mary tightened her hand around Matthews as the train came in to view, steam seeming to pour from all of its orifices. The whistle blew again and echoed loudly throughout the Downton station.

Suddenly, Maggie Crawley leaned out of one of the windows, looking for her parents. She spotted them almost immediately and waved excitedly. "Mother! Daddy!" She called out to them.

Mary stood up on her tip toes and waved back cheerfully. Matthew stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. As the train pulled in its great expanse loomed over the platform, blocking the sun and spilling steam out on to the pavement. Maggie called out again, her hand reached out and waving. "Mother! Daddy!" And then she disappeared inside the window.

The train slowly came to a stop. Mary and Matthew stepped toward the first class car expectantly, looking for Maggie, but instead saw Bill Whyte. He stepped out and lifted several suit cases out from the car and smiled over at them. Maggie jumped out shortly after, looking for her parents.

"Maggie!" Mary finally revealed her heart on her sleeve seeing her daughter.

Matthew watched as the two women greeted each other in a fierce hug. In observing Maggie he noticed she looked slightly different. She had on a new afternoon dress, which looked French and elegant. She wore low heeled shoes and an age appropriate hat. But something had changed. A month in Paris had left a blush on her. He had predicted she would have her first glass of wine, and Mary had predicted she would have her first kiss. When he noticed Bill putting his hand on Maggie's elbow Matthew realized she had experienced both.

"Daddy!" Her sweet voice jolted him out of his trance. Despite her more grown up appearance, she hopped over to him enthusiastically, calling his name again. "Daddy!"

Matthew stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight. "Oh, my darling, I've missed you so very much!" He kissed her cheeks.

She laughed in to his shoulder. "I missed you too, Daddy. So very much!"

His heart melted. _Take that, Bill Whyte_, he mused to himself. He pulled back and held her by her upper arms. "I hope you had a perfectly awful time because I am never letting you return to Paris ever again!" He announced teasingly. "Or to leave Downton, for that matter!"

She giggled with him. "Oh, Daddy it was perfectly wonderful! Everything was!" Her eyes sparkled and her smile beamed.

Matthew looked over to see Bill now standing with them. He extended his hand. "Hello, Bill."

Bill smiled eagerly. "Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley!"

"I hope you and the rest of the students had a lovely time." Matthew remained vague but he could tell what was coming.

Bill looked at Maggie who seemed to give him encouragement with her eyes. Bill looked back at Matthew. "Yes, it was a wonderful trip, sir." He spoke hesitantly. "And I was wondering if I could call on Maggie…er, Margaret, tomorrow?"

Matthew frowned. "Tomorrow?" He cocked his head. "Well I should think after a month on the same trip to Paris that you could spend a few days apart…"

Mary interrupted. "Yes, Bill, you may call on Maggie tomorrow. Why don't you come around for tea?"

Bill's eyes brightened. "Really? Oh, thank you!" He shook Matthew's hand again and then turned to Maggie. "My parents are here. Why don't you come and say hello?"

Maggie nodded. "Yes, alright." And they walked hand in hand down the platform over to Bill's waiting parents.

"Honestly Matthew," Mary started. "Don't give Bill such a hard time."

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, whispering through clenched teeth. "He just saw her every day for a month, for God's sake! Why does he need to come 'round as soon as tomorrow?"

Mary patted his arm. "Because he fancies her. Besides, l thought you liked him? You're the one who said she is growing up."

Matthew closed his eyes. He raised a hand and pinched two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes," he exhaled, "I know…I just." He sighed and looked down at Mary. "It's going by so fast."

Yes, something lovely had happened in Paris.


	11. Chapter 11

"Alright, now, no peeking!" Mary instructed cheerfully as they stood in front of Maggie's bedroom door, which was still closed.

Maggie looked excitedly at her mother and then at her father, who was behind her. "What have you done? What is it? Oh, I know! It's a camera, isn't it!?"

Mary glanced over. "No it isn't. Matthew, put your hands over her eyes so she can't peek."

He laughed and Maggie giggled as Matthew's hands went around her face and gently covered her eyes. As Maggie stood impatiently under her father's hands, she heard the door open. Then she felt her mother's hand usher her forward in to the room and then heard her voice. "Alright, dearest, you can look now."

Matthew pulled his hands away and Maggie slowly opened her eyes and a soft gasp flew from her lips. She had to blink as she took the room in, looking all around her. Her old yellow gingham bedroom had been transformed. The bedspread was now a soft shade of cream, with assorted throw pillows tossed and piled against the headboard. Perched proudly on top of the pillows in the center was the stuffed kitten Isobel had given her, no doubt positioned there by her father. The new carpeting was a soft, heathered rose and the drapes on the two large windows were cream and pale rose striped damask. "What's thi…" her voice dropped off. "But it just…" She was astonished and speechless as her eyes drifted around the room.

Matthew looked over at Mary who was standing in anticipation with her hands clasped under her chin. "Well? What do you think?" Mary's voice was full of hope and excitement.

Maggie walked around the bed. "Oh, my heaven, this bedspread is genuinely beautiful!" Turning around she found herself standing directly in front of the French provincial vanity—she gasped again. "Oh, my word! Oh, my goodness! A vanity! What an exquisite…" She spun around and looked at both of her parents.

Matthew held his hands up as if in surrender. "Don't look at me. This was all your mother's doing, every bit of it." He looked at Maggie imploringly, his eyes soft and sincere. "She even renovated that vanity all on her own just for you. It's a family heirloom."

Mary blushed. "Well, I didn't do it _all_ by myself. Henderson helped me." She beamed back at Maggie.

Maggie spoke in a whisper. "You did all of this, Mother?"

Mary smiled and nodded with a little embarrassment. "Guilty as charged. And don't worry; if there are things not to your liking we can make a few adjustments."

Maggie's eyes began to water and she raised a white gloved finger to dab at them. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Her voice trembled with emotion. "Oh, Mother, I don't know what to say," she put a white gloved hand up to her mouth. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she crossed the room to Mary and hugged her.

Mary's expression became fragile. "Oh, Maggie, please don't cry." She patted Maggie's back. "This is supposed to make you happy."

Maggie stood back and wiped a tear away. "It does make me happy." Matthew reached in to his breast pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief. He stepped over and dabbed it to Maggie's cheeks. She looked up at him and then back Mary as she spoke. "I've missed you so very much. And this is the most incredible gift I could ever imagine." She sniffled as her face brightened again. "What made you think to do this, Mommie?"

"Well," Mary began, running her fingers over Maggie's shoulders and straightening her dress. "While you were away I missed you. And redecorating your bedroom and being around your things was my way to feel like you were closer." She reached a hand up to Maggie's blond bangs and brushed them aside. _Like father, like daughter_, Mary thought.

Maggie kissed Mary's cheek and then began rummaging around in her black patent purse. "Ooo, I've got just the thing to put on my vanity!" She looked down in to the bag. "A-ha! Here it is!" She whipped out a small bottle and held it up proudly.

Mary laughed. "You bought a bottle of French perfume!"

Maggie held it against her chest and shook her head. "No. It was a gift from Bill." She leaned forward and whispered the name. "It's called 'Joy'."

Matthew frowned and rolled his eyes. "Isn't perfume rather extravagant for a young man to give as a gift?"

Mary gave him one of her stern glares before returning her attention back to their daughter. "It's perfect, darling."

Maggie smiled and crossed over to her vanity and set the small bottle of Joy in the center of the pink marble top, in front of the silver framed mirror. She held her hands out as thought the object might fall over, admiring it. She pulled the vanity stool out and marveled at the feel of the plush pale pink velvet upholstery.

Matthew found his smile again. "There's also a telephone in here now."

Maggie swirled around on the vanity stool to face them. She was in shock. "A telephone? In my room?"

He crossed over to her, pointing at the nearest nightstand. "Yes, it's next to the bed. And there will be no calls with Mr. Whyte after six o'clock in the evening." He held his chin up to make his point.

"Oh, Matthew," Mary walked over to join them. "Isn't six a little early?"

He looked at her and then back at Maggie, his eyes softening. "Well, perhaps six is a bit early." He paused. "Alright, eight o'clock. But I mean it, young lady. If there is any telephone chatting with that young man after the appointed hour I'll personally bring the scissors up here and cut the line. And don't think I won't know it because it is the same number as the rest of the house. All I have to do is pick up the receiver and listen and I'll know."

Maggie nodded. "Yes, of course, I understand."

Mary exhaled. "Thank you, Matthew, for the telephone parameters. Now, if you're done being the Marquis de Sade why don't we let Maggie rest up from her trip and we'll all have a nice dinner together?" She leaned over and kissed Maggie on the head. "I'm so happy you like your room, darling."

Maggie hugged her. "I love it, Mommie!"

Matthew put his hands on Maggie's cheeks. "I'm so glad you're home, silly girl. I missed you!"

She smiled up at him and hugged him tightly. "I missed you too, Daddy!"

He held her attention and whispered. "And you will notice there are no ashtrays in here, so the 'no smoking' rule still applies—I don't care how much you grew up in Paris, that rule still goes in this room."

Maggie smiled. "Yes, sir." She kissed him.

He turned and followed Mary out of the room. He walked beside her purposefully slipping his jacket off. "The Marquis de Sade? I hardly think that was warranted."

Mary huffed. "Honestly, Matthew. No phone calls after six o'clock? Why don't you just chain her up in the basement?"

He looked at her sideways. "Don't tempt me, I might just do it." He was wrinkling his brows again. "And what does that young man mean by giving her a bottle of perfume!"

"He likes her as a beau. I think it's rather sweet. And Joy is quite expensive."

Matthew let out a breath, his voice tinged with anger and disbelief. "He's just trying to impress her. And perfume is entirely too familiar."

Mary stopped and looked at him in surprise. "In what way is perfume too familiar for a young man to give a young woman? He's known her since they were three years old." She put her hands on her hips. "Besides, you gave me a bottle of Chanel while we were in London."

"Exactly. And it resulted in nothing but broken furniture and now you are…you are..." he glanced around to ensure they were alone, "…_on the nest_." He muttered in a loud frustrated whisper.

"On the what?" She looked playfully offended. "Am I a bird in this scenario?"

"I rest my case," he pouted and with that Matthew turned and walked toward his dressing room.

* * *

**A/N ** Thanks for reading! Only a few chapters to go. This has been a fun one to write. Next up, M/M tell Maggie about the baby, Bill comes for tea...and babies arrive. I've been swamped at work and have been remiss in my thank you notes to all who have reviewd, so THANK YOU to all of you for your kind words, suggestions and input...and for following this one. I really appreciate it. :)


	12. Chapter 12

The three of them sat at the dining room table, as Maggie regaled her parents with stories of her adventures in Paris: a glass of champagne at the Eiffel Tower, café au lait at a street cafe across from the Tuileries, and getting lost at the Louvre. They laughed and as they dined from one course to the next, Mary was waiting for just the right opportunity to announce the good news that she was having another baby. Matthew had suggested that Mary tell Maggie in private, but Mary brushed him off and felt they would celebrate their good news together over dinner.

Maggie dabbed her napkin to her mouth. "I'm so sorry for talking your ears off. I've rambled on endlessly, haven't I?"

Matthew smiled in understanding. "Nonsense. You had an exciting trip and that is precisely what your mother and I had hoped for."

Maggie looked at both of them. "I've been a terrible bore. I haven't even given you a chance to share what you did while I was away, besides redecorating my bedroom—and that doesn't count. Surely you had an adventure, too?" She looked from Matthew to Mary in expectation.

Mary sighed and decided the opportunity had presented itself. "Well, we have had a bit of excitement." She glanced at Matthew and reached her hand out to his, clasping their hands together across the table. "It seems we're going to welcome another family member." She paused, looking back at Maggie. Mary searched her face but couldn't read her expression.

Maggie's eye's blinked in concentration as her mind unfolded their news. "You mean we are taking in a distant relative?" Her eyes were wide and innocent.

Matthew remained silent deciding that Mary should handle the conversation. He looked over at her as she clarified their announcement. "No, no, dear, we are not taking in a relative." She sighed again. "Doctor Parker called just before you arrived home to share that I am expecting a baby. Sometime early next year we think."

"Oh?" Maggie posed the question thoughtfully. Suddenly her expression changed. "Oh…I see. You mean…" she was trying to form the words delicately.

Matthew suddenly felt awkward. He wasn't used to having his and Mary's intimate matters advertised to their daughter, so he felt uneasy about it. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but parents hardly went around discussing it. He ran a finger along his collar and took a sip of wine.

"Oh….er." She stuttered. "You mean to say that you and father…?" Her eyes darted over to Matthew.

He slightly winced from embarrassment and at the sound of being called Father, which Maggie only did during a reprimand. He never should have let Mary brush off his request that she have this conversation alone.

Maggie tried to rephrase her question again. "You mean that you and Father…well, that you are pregnant?" Her eyes were bright and well-meaning, but she appeared uncomfortable.

"Yes, exactly," Mary said trying to put a fine point on things.

Maggie smiled. "Well, that is wonderful. I know you have both always wanted another child."

Matthew leaned forward and reached for her hand. "And you will be his, or her, big sister. Won't that be fun?"

Maggie nodded as she continued to smile. "Yes, of course it will." She re-folded the napkin in her lap again.

Henderson entered the dining room with a silver dessert tray which carried a beautiful chocolate cake. Mary clapped her hands together merrily. "Oh, marvelous! Perfect timing."

Maggie analyzed her place setting in front of her as a million emotions ran through her heart. She was happy for her parents as another baby was something they had wanted for years. She had wanted to be a grown up, and now she was. She felt her childhood slipping away and fading in to the shadows with every passing second.

Henderson leaned down beside her, offering the tray. "Dessert Miss Margaret?" He waited.

Maggie looked up at him and politely declined. "No, thank you, Henderson."

Matthew tilted his head in question, happy for an excuse to lighten the moment. "Do my ears deceive me? Did Margaret Crawley just turn down a piece of chocolate cake?" He looked at her. "Daisy made this especially for you tonight."

Henderson offered the tray again but Maggie smiled politely. "No thank you, really." She reiterated. "I'm watching my figure."

Matthew frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. You have a perfectly lovely figure."

Maggie kept her smile cheerful. "That's so nice of you to say. But if it's alright, I think I'll pass."

Matthew began to question her. "Well, what do you…"

"No, no. It's alright." Mary defended her and waved a hand. "Most women watch their figure so it's perfectly natural."

"It's been a long day," Maggie spoke respectfully but her voice sounded tired. "Would you mind if I went to my room?"

Matthew and Mary sat in momentary silence before she piped up. "No, of course not."

Maggie stood and wished them goodnight. "I truly am excited for you—it's wonderful news isn't it?" She thanked Henderson, and then was gone. Henderson cleared the table leaving Matthew and Mary alone. They sat in silence for several moments.

"Maybe you were right," Mary started. "I should have spoken with her alone."

Matthew slumped down in to his chair. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "We embarrassed her. And I'm not buying one word of that 'I'm watching my figure' speech. I know my daughter—she would crawl across the Sahara if there were a piece of chocolate cake on the other side of it."

Mary sighed and nodded. "Maybe it's all just a surprise to her. We should give her some time."

He frowned. "I think she is being an impertinent, spoilt brat."

"Matthew!" Mary was shocked at his candor.

He looked at her. "No, I mean it, Mary." He pointed a finger at the door. "That child has had as privileged a life as any young lady could want, and how does she behave?" He waited just long enough to answer his own question. "By pouting like a selfish child. Her behavior is self-centered and broodish."

Mary rolled her eyes sarcastically. "I wonder where she gets it from?" She crossed her arms. "And she wasn't pouting, Matthew, I think she is just in a state of surprise. And for the record, most young women start watching their figures when they begin dating boys. It's a fact of life."

He stood abruptly and tossed his napkin on the table. "I'm going to go up to her room and see if I can get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Matthew walked along the upstairs hallway carrying a dessert plate covered with a white linen napkin. He cleared his throat as he approached Maggie's bedroom door. It was ajar so he knocked softly and called out her name. "Maggie?"

There was a pause and then her reply. "Yes, come in."

Matthew pushed the door open and found Maggie sitting at her vanity in her pajamas and brushing her hair. His anger almost entirely disappeared, but he remembered his mission. "Enjoying the new vanity, I see."

She stood up and fidgeted with the brush in her hands "Yes, it's so lovely." She traced a finger over the top of it just as Mary had done when she showed it to Matthew. "It was incredibly kind of Mommie to do it. I've been trying to think of a special way to thank her properly."

Matthew suddenly felt his speech about her being a spoilt brat seemed overly harsh, so he started from a flanking position. "Look, I know you are watching your figure, and all, but I know that chocolate cake is your very favorite dessert and Daisy made it especially for you. So," He held the covered dessert plate if front of him and whipped the napkin off like a magician, "I cut a piece extra thin. It's just a sliver of cake, so surely that couldn't harm anything to much?"

Maggie smiled a nodded appreciatively. "That's very sweet of you, Daddy. But honestly, I think I'm too full from dinner."

He was crest fallen. He draped the napkin back over the cake. "Alright, then." He looked at her earnestly. "You're certain you're in good spirits about the baby?"

Maggie nodded happily, but still somewhat formally. "Yes, yes, absolutely. I'm so happy for you and Mother."

Suddenly, the daughter who had always been more like him now seemed more like her mother, suppressing her feelings and chosing her words. His brows knitted in question. "Well, that's just it, you see. A baby isn't something that is just happening for your Mother and me. We're a family, so it's happening to you, as well. It should be exciting for all three of us. Don't you agree?"

She nodded again. "Yes, absolutely. I'm over the moon, really. I'm just a little tired from my trip." She wanted to sound sincere and hoped she did.

He missed the girl who jumped up and down on her bed when she was excited. The young woman in front of him seemed contained and stoic. He let out a long breath. "Well, then…" He was cut off by the telephone ringing.

Maggie glanced over at it and then back at her father and smiled. "My first phone call!" She looked down at her wrist watch. "It's still only seven thirty, so it's alright, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Good night, Daddy," she said as she picked up the receiver and began talking with what sounded like one of her girl friends.

Matthew stood fixed momentarily and then turned and made his way to the master bedroom. The midsummer sun was just setting outside the windows so he took a seat in an overstuffed chair in front of them. He set the dessert plate down with a clatter on an end table, and leaned back in the chair, looking out at the view. He rested his mouth against his hand.

After a while, Mary finally entered and was curious about the conversation with Maggie. Looking over at Matthew she thought he looked lost and distracted. "Well? Did you tell her she was being a brooding, spoilt brat?" She said in jest more than anything else.

He chewed his lip in thought. "No, I didn't say any of that." He glanced down at his hands.

Mary crossed over and stood next to him, seeing the reflection in his face. "What did you two talk about?"

He shrugged. "She said she is delighted for you and me. And she sounded quite earnest about it."

"Oh, I see." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You know, Granny used to say that the parent-child relationship is the only relationship in one's life that is supposed to end in separation as the child grows up and finds their own path." She rubbed his back. "Maybe this is the beginning of the natural course of things?"

Matthew leaned forward, his chin in his hands, pondering the arrival of one child, and the separation of another. He couldn't help the ache he felt in his heart. He looked up at Mary and spoke in a whisper. "I hope not."

* * *

**A/N ** Maggie is coming to terms with the big change in her family. Coming up...Bill visits and babies arrive. :)


	13. Chapter 13

As the months passed, Maggie continued to be polite, respectful and always appeared to have a certain level of enthusiasm about Mary's pregnancy. She made sure to help her mother without being asked; she was dutiful and remained focused on her parents and their new unborn child. But Matthew could tell it was all perfunctory, a contained level of excitement and courtesy, as though she was a tenant at Downton; someone adrift in between two places.

Her sixteenth birthday came and went without fanfare. Mary had wanted to host a party, but Maggie was adamant that she did not feel it was necessary. So, they had a quiet dinner at home as a family with Isobel to commemorate the birthday and Maggie's new use of her peerage title. The evening was quiet and simple, without a cake, and Maggie finished early to attend the movies with Bill.

Several more weeks passed when Maggie's teacher requested a meeting with Matthew and Mary at the school. Mrs. Hemworth was an attractive, older woman who specialized in university preparation of senior students. Mathew stood up as she walked in to the room. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Hemworth." He shook her hand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley and Lady Crawley. How kind of you to make time to meet with me today." They sat around a large ornate table with a tea service in the center of it and Mrs. Hemworth poured a cup for everyone.

Mary straightened up in her chair, her larger body now much more obvious and cumbersome. "Is there a problem with Margaret's marks? Is that why we're here?"

Mrs. Hemworth's eyebrows went up. "What? Oh, no," she laughed demurely. "Quite the contrary, actually. Lady Margaret has the highest marks of any pupil in the school."

Matthew and Mary sat in stunned silence. He ran a hand down over his necktie. "Really? The _top scores?" _A proud smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

The school marme nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that's right. She is one of the best students I have ever had the privilege to instruct. So good, in fact, she is going to finish school a full eight months earlier than the rest of her classmates."

Matthew and Mary exchanged a wondering look. Matthew leaned forward toward Mrs. Hemworth again. "Really?" His surprise was evident in his voice. "So she would be able to begin studying to take university entrance exams next summer?"

"Oh, she's already done that." Mrs. Hemworth's face was filled with delight at being able to share this news with Matthew and Mary.

Matthew blinked at the older woman. "You mean she has already studied for the exams?"

Mrs. Hemworth smiled. "No, I mean she has already completed the exams! And her scores are among the highest any of us on the faculty have ever seen." She opened the file in front of her. "Cambridge has already accepted her, which is no small achievement I can assure you as so few women are ever granted permission to attend classes. It is quite an honor!"

Matthew sat in astonishment. "Yes, I know it's my alma mater. But we thought she was studying for exams for next years' class here, at this school?" He was pointing on the table top. "And that she would still have another year of school here?"

"Not with these scores, Mr. Crawley. You should be very proud of her!"

Mary's mouth was agape. "You mean to say that she has already applied and been accepted to university?"

Mrs. Hemworth nodded excitedly. "Yes, that's right! Isn't it wonderful? She could go as soon the summer." Her eyes went back and forth between Matthew and Mary. "This is the first time anything like this has happened at this school! We even had a special celebration at Lady Margaret's birthday party."

Mary's head popped up. "Birthday party?"

Mrs. Hemworth nodded. "Oh, yes, we had a beautiful sixteenth birthday party for Margaret. It was a surprise party. She told us she didn't' want one, but naturally we paid her no mind. So we had a perfectly lovely celebration with a buffet and a simply fabulous chocolate cake. She must have had five pieces! And since all of the students in her class learned to dance during their trip to Paris last summer, it was lovely to see her dancing and having such fun. I know how much she'll miss Bill Whyte now that he is bound for Sandhurst so soon. They have been quite sweet on each other for such a long time."

Mary sat back in her chair. "A surprise party? With dancing?" Her voice was soft as she thought about such a special occasion that Maggie celebrated without them. "I do wish you would have called us about it."

Mrs. Hemworth sensed their discord. "I'm dreadfully sorry. It was all rather last minute. I do hope you don't mind."

Matthew pressed his lips together and stood up. "Well I certainly do mind. And Cambridge is out of the question. She is just sixteen years old."

Mrs. Hemworth looked puzzled. "Well, the average age of first year students is only seventeen, Mr. Crawley."

He looked at her in frustration. "As I said, madam, it is my alma mater. I am well acquainted with the customs of the university. But Maggie is still a very young woman. Surely another year here would be in her best interest?"

Mrs. Hemworth put a pamphlet down on the table in front of them. "Yes, but you see, there is a special dormitory for young ladies who attend. It is called Lady Cliff and it is quite exclusive. More like a finishing school environment and very strict, I can assure you."

Mary peered down at the brochure. "Well it does look quite lovely, indeed."

Matthew was fuming. "I forbid it."

Mary reached a hand out and patted his arm. "Please, darling. As Mrs. Hemworth has stated, Margaret has achieved something very few students ever accomplish. We should be proud of her and help her with this."

Matthew was pacing back and forth. "Absolutely not!" It was all he could do to keep his anger under control.

Mrs. Hemworth stood up. "Perhaps I should let you discuss this alone. I'll just step outside. Lady Margaret is in the waiting room so I'll ask her to come in." She turned and left the room.

"Matthew, please," Mary implored him, "Maggie must have worked incredibly hard for this opportunity."

"Opportunity?" He stopped in front of her. "This isn't an opportunity. This is a grown up version of running away from home!"

Mary cocked her head. "What on Earth do you mean?"

Their conversation was interrupted as Maggie stepped in to join them, shutting the door behind her. "Mrs. Hemworth said she explained everything to you." She looked at them with wide eyes. "Are you surprised? Isn't it amazing? Isn't it wonderful?"

It was the most excitement, and the most life, Matthew and Mary had seen out of their daughter in months. Matthew put his hands on his hips. "It is out of the question." As he spoke he kept his voice controlled and stern.

Maggie looked astonished. "What?" Her eyes searched her father's. "But Cambridge is your alma mater. I thought you would be pleased. I thought you would be so proud of me?"

He stepped closer to her, addressing her firmly. "Margaret, you do not have to go to Cambridge for me to be proud of you." He looked at her tightly. "Or is this really all about Bill because he is leaving for Sandhurst?" He was fuming. "And how could you have a birthday celebration with other people without our knowledge."

Her hands went out to her sides. "But it was a surprise party. I didn't know about it."

"Yes, but you never told us about it!" He tilted his head to look at her. "Did it ever occur to you that celebrating your special birthday was something your mother and I had looked forward to?"

Maggie didn't know what to say. Her voice had become a whisper. "I thought you would be proud of me."

"We are proud of you, Maggie." Mary put a hand on her back. "But you are still so very young dearest."

Matthew squared his shoulders. "Cambridge is out of the question until next year. And without our support and permission you cannot attend, so that's final." He bit off that last word to make his point.

Maggie chewed her lip, finding her courage. "Well my exam scores were so high I qualified for a scholarship." She looked nervously but resolutely at Matthew. "Just like you did, Father, when you went to Cambridge." She held their stares. "And unless I am mistaken, you were sixteen as a first year student as well."

Mary looked from Maggie up at Matthew. "Is that true?"

Without taking his eyes from Maggie, he slowly nodded. "Yes." He let out a breath. "I received a full scholarship, but I was almost seventeen." He took a breath. "And I was a young man and it's different for men. Besides, this is some sort of charade of yours to leave home as soon as possible."

Maggie looked at him holding her ground. "Are you accusing me of running away?"

He leaned toward her. "Bolting away is more like it! You have made it perfectly clear that you would rather be anywhere but at Downton, or with us for that matter!"

Mary tried to stop their arguing. "Matthew, please, let's be reasonable…"

He brushed her off. "Mary, let me handle this!"

Maggie stood in place with her purse clasped in front of her. "All I've done is support you and Mother all of these months. I have done nothing but be polite and courteous and helpful at every turn!" She was breathing faster as her angst rose up. "I have accompanied Mother to every medical appointment, taken her tea in bed, and put fresh flowers in her room every single morning! And all the while I have been completing my studies in a manner that has resulted in the highest scores of any student in my school—ever!"

Mary put another hand out again. "Please let's not argue like this."

Maggie snatched her arm away. "No! I am happy for you both and for your new child, really I am!"

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "You keep saying that as though you are not a part of this family!"

Mary suddenly sat down with her hand against her midsection. "Oh, dear…"

Matthew and Maggie stopped and looked over at her with concern. "Mommie?"

Matthew knelt down beside her taking her hand in his. "Are you alright darling?"

She put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, a dismayed expression in her eyes. "Oh, dear..." she exhaled. "I think it's time to go to the hospital."

* * *

**A/N** Thanks for reading! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** Almost near the end...I'll miss this story as it has been fun to write! (I seem to say that with all of them!) Thank you for your reviews and input. Soooo, babies have arrived and Maggie says farewell...

* * *

St. Mary's Hospital - Ripon, Yorkshire

Maggie sat beside Isobel on the small love seat in Mary's hospital room, admiring Mary's and Matthew's first moments with their new sons. Mary held one in her arms, and Matthew cuddled the other, cooing and nuzzling his nose against the baby's soft forehead. "God, you are such a gloriously beautiful baby," he whispered to the tiny infant.

Maggie sat up straighter to see. "Have you decided on names yet?"

Mary smiled. "Robert and Reginald."

Isobel beamed. "Oh, my dears, Matthew's father would be so very touched. How nice of you to honor your two fathers in such a wonderful way. Which baby is the eldest?"

Matthew smiled over at them. "This one is—Reginald." He was ecstatic over his sons and had not stopped smiling since their birth nearly two hours earlier. "Here," he said to Mary, "Let's switch so I can hold Robert for a while."

Isobel patted Maggie's hand. "Well, Maggie my dear, as much as I wish we could stay, I think your parents need time alone with their newborn sons, and some sleep. And it's a school night for you, so we should be shoving off."

Maggie nodded and they stood to leave. She approached her mother's bed and gazed at her parents and the babies. "They truly are beautiful, Mommie. They have your beautiful brown eyes and coloring. I really am so incredibly happy for you and Daddy and happy that everything went alright with the delivery." She fidgeted with her purse and softened her voice. "I'm also sorry about the misunderstanding at the school today. I hope you'll accept my apology about hiding my university exams. I really did intend the news about Cambridge to be a wonderful surprise for you, like a big present." She sighed. "But I didn't think it through at all, and I'm so very sorry for hurting your feelings."

Mary's eyes were still glued to her new son, but she glanced up at Maggie. "Well," Mary released a tired breath, "it's all in the past, Maggie. Not to worry." She adjusted little Reggie's blanket around his face and then went on talking. "And your father and I discussed it and of course the scholarship to Cambridge is the opportunity of a lifetime and you should go, whenever you like."

Maggie smiled. "Really? Thank you! Thank you, both, so very much!"

Isobel tugged at Maggie's sleeve. "Alright, then, come, come my dear. We must be running along and leave your parents and their little ones alone."

As they left, Isobel walked through the door and proceeded down the corridor. As Maggie followed behind her, she paused momentarily and turned to peek back at her parents through the small porthole window in the door to the room. Matthew and Mary sat together, side by side, on the bed with their new sons. It was a beautiful image Maggie would always remember as her mother and father held their new babies and shared their first private moments as a family. Matthew leaned over and kissed Mary lovingly on the lips. Maggie averted her eyes from their private scene.

"Maggie?" Isobel's voice rang out from down the hall.

She turned back toward her grandmother and began to walk toward her. "Yes! Here I come." She walked faster, her hand holding her hat on her head, to catch up with Isobel. "Wait for me!"

* * *

Matthew lay back on the bed, holding one of his sons. Mary dozed beside him, and the other baby slept in a bassinet beside the bed. He couldn't remember being happier—he felt elated and full of life. He stood up and paced slowly around the room gazing down at tiny Robert. He touched a finger to the baby's hand, which instinctively curled around Matthew's finger. He felt something pull at his heart strings. "I will give you everything my beautiful boy." He whispered. "Your mother and I are so very happy you are here. Both you and your brother will have the most wonderful life." He walked back to the bed and sat back down beside their mother. He leaned over and kissed her again, "I love you my darling," he murmured against Mary's cheek and then he reclined with his son in his arms.

Life was complete.

* * *

As the weeks passed, Matthew had moved the bassinets in to the master bedroom so he and Mary could be closer to the babies at night. When the rainy weather came they could lie in bed together and listen to the rain pattering against the window, and if it stormed the four of them could brave the thunder. On one such night, Mary noticed the thunder and lightning fast approaching. "It's a terrible night out, Matthew."

He was in the rocking chair with Reggie in his arms. "Yes, it reminds me of that horrible storm last summer. Remember the one that took the electricity out?" He looked at her playfully.

She crossed to a window and peered out. "Do you think you should check on Maggie?"

He carefully re-arranged the bundle in his arms. "Whatever for? Maggie's not afraid of storms, remember? In school she learned that thunder is just warm air colliding with barometric moisture. She's like her mother—she's a storm braver."

Mary sighed. "But I'm in here with you, aren't I?" Outside a bolt of lightning struck across the sky and Mary could see the wind whipping through the trees as the lightning cast a glow across the estate grounds. "I hate thunder and lightning," she added as the storm raged over their heads against the great house.

"Don't worry. Any young woman who graduated at the top of her class will be just fine. Besides, she'll be at Cambridge in a few weeks so she should get used to stormy nights on her own. It's good for her independence."

Mary heard a snuffle from one of the bassinets. As she looked down in to it a smile broke across her face as she saw her son's coal black eyes peek open to look up at her. "There you are my little darling!"

* * *

Maggie and Isobel stood on the train platform at Downton Station. Isobel's hands were brushing Maggie's shoulders, smoothing a few wrinkles out from her linen jacket. "Oh, my sweet, you look pretty as a picture." She let out a long sentimental sigh. "It seems just like yesterday that I was seeing your father off when he left for Cambridge, and now here I am seeing the first Crawley woman off to the very same venerable institution! Bravo!"

Maggie stood up straighter and smiled widely. "Thank you so much, grandma-ma!" She ran her palms over the front of her light blue summer suit.

"And the color of your suit makes your blue eyes twinkle just like Matthew's." Isobel proudly assessed her granddaughter in the morning sunshine. "And don't fret about your parents not being able to be here to see you off. It's a terrible schedule conflict that the photographer they are using for the family portrait with the boys was only available today." She paused and looked in to Maggie's eyes which were so much like her son's. "Just remember, dear, that life is a continuous series of endings and new beginnings. And today marks the end of one chapter in your life, but the beginning of a new and exciting one!"

Maggie pressed her lips together and nodded in understanding. "I know. And they were very kind when we left Downton." She excitedly held up a sack. "Look, Father gave me a nice luncheon that Daisy made for me to have on the train."

Isobel smiled. "I'll bet there's a piece of chocolate cake in that bag!"

Maggie laughed. A porter called out to her to board the train. "All aboard young lady!"

Isobel threw her arms around Maggie. "Oh, my dearest, I shall miss you every day." She felt her eyes sting with tears. "I am so very proud of you!"

"Thank you. Grandma-ma." She hugged Isobel tightly. "I love you so very much and thank you for everything!"

The porter called out again and Maggie stepped toward the train car. She took her seat and waved to Isobel as the train slowly pulled out of the station, its long, low whistle echoing as it picked up speed and steam puffed from it's stack. The train progressed quickly, turning a bend to the right, whisking her off to her new journey….her new chapter…a new life.

As she watched the countryside out the train car window, Maggie decided she would have one of the sandwiches Daisy packed for her. As she hoped, Isobel was right and there was, indeed, a piece of chocolate cake in her bag. She curved her lips up in to a smile deciding to save it for later. She bent down and dug around the bag, pulling out one of the sandwiches, but she felt something else inside the bag. Maggie paused, puzzled, and reached down and pulled it out.

It was the stuffed orange kitten from her bedroom with a note from her father pinned to it. "From here, light and sacred illumination. Good luck, my silly girl."

Maggie clutched the little kitten to her chest and took a bite from her sandwich. As she chewed, hugging the little toy, the view out the window became blurred by the tears that filled her eyes.


	15. Chapter 15

Time seemed to fly. Matthew and Mary busied themselves at Downton with Reggie and Bobby, the weeks rolling in to months, as the boys learned to crawl, make noises and ultimately walk. Mary redecorated the nursery in to a little boy's room, with twin beds, cricket bats, endless toys and books. Matthew indulged them at every turn, any semblance of discipline nearly impossible, but as the boys learned to talk and communicate he seemed to make greater strides. Robert and Cora had returned from the grand tour, delighted to be grandparents again to the two young Crawley boys.

Maggie threw herself in to her new world at Cambridge. She spent every waking moment in class or studying, and became a tutor which, to her delight, actually included hourly remuneration. Her new home at Lady Cliff was lovely and her room had a bright and cheerful bay window where she situated her desk so she could look out while she studied. Within the year she held the top honors in her class and was one of the most promising students at the university. Her letters home to her parents gave them all the details of her new home and academic exploits; and she drew picture stories to her little brothers, drawing sketches of the Cambridge campus, the river, and surrounding countryside. Mary saved Maggie's picture-letters to Reggie and Bobby in to an album so the boys could read and appreciate them as they grew older. Maggie spent the Christmas holidays at Lady Cliff, writing a thesis which she wrote in French. Her seventeenth birthday came and went, with a splendid cake made by the cook at Lady Cliff and celebrated by the girls who were her housemates.

And so it went, month after month, until another year and four more seasons completed their cycle. Life at Downton moved forward and Maggie's college success progressed with each term. As another holiday season approached, Matthew and Mary wrote to Maggie about coming home for a family Christmas, which she pleasantly but reluctantly accepted as she didn't want to fall behind prior to her mid-year exams.

~O~

On the snowy evening of December 22nd, a car had been sent to collect Maggie at the train station. As it rolled up the drive Maggie marveled at how Downton never changed—a constant, elegant symbol of her family's life story. She smiled at the sight of the grand old estate house, as the lights flickered against the dark wintry evening sky.

The front door opened and Henderson dashed out holding an umbrella to keep the snow off her head as Maggie stepped out of the car and followed the footman in to the house. Walking in to the entry way, she was immediately warmed by the new central heating and her nose caught the scent of cinder from the fireplace in the grand saloon.

Mary appeared from around a hallway corner. "Maggie!" She called out, genuinely happy to see her eldest child. She was surprised by her daughter's taller height, at least two inches, and gaunt appearance. And her shorter hair style was long again and pulled in to a tight bun in the back of her head, underneath her hat.

"Hello, Mother!" Maggie hugged Mary tightly. "You look wonderful!"

Mary pulled back to look at Maggie. "Oh, nonsense. But it is sweet of you to say!" They shared a laugh. Mary held Maggie's hands out to their sides to take her all in. "Maggie you are thin as rail. Aren't they feeding you at Lady Cliff?"

Maggie smiled as she took her hat off. "Yes, three meals a day, but I'm so busy sometimes I only have time for one."

Mary looked at her nicely but skeptically, noticing dark circles under her eyes and how pale her skin had become, clearly from spending all her time indoors. "Have you seen Bill Whyte at all?"

Maggie tossed her hat on her luggage. "Oh, yes, last summer after he turned out from Sandhurst. He is cross training to the R.A.F."

Mary put a hand to Maggie's hair. "I understand he is home for the holidays as well. We should invite him over."

"Oh, that sounds lovely, Mother" She coughed several times in to a handkerchief.

They turned at the sound of Matthew's footsteps coming down the grand stair case, followed by the smaller footsteps of Reggie and Bobby who were right behind him. "Ah, there you are darling." He walked up to Maggie and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "You look marvelous."

Maggie beamed and stood up to kiss his cheek in return. "Hello, Father. It's so lovely to see you." Reggie and Bobby immediately pulled at her hands, skirt and hand bag, chanting her name. "Maggie! Maggie! Maggie!"

Mary glanced at him. "Well, I was just saying that I think Maggie looks a little thin. Don't you?"

Matthew patted his daughter's shoulder. "Nonsense. She's at Cambridge. All university students live on late nights and random meals."

Mary frowned but let the comment go.

Henderson helped Maggie remove her coat, her slender frame even more apparent. "Well, I suppose I have lost a stone or so but I'll gain it all back at Christmas dinner." She bent down and kissed Reggie first and then Bobby. As she kissed them she teased them about being able to taste cookie crumbs on their cheeks, prompting the little boys to squeal with laughter.

As they adjourned to the library for drinks with Robert and Cora, Maggie excused herself to the lavatory. Matthew poured cocktails and everyone chatted and waited for Maggie to return. Mary whispered her concern in secret to everyone. "I am worried at how thin and pale she has become."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Darling, I told you, she's at a tough school. It's a lot of hard work and late nights and I might remind you that she is at the top of her class." His voice was filled with pride. Mary bit her tongue as they waited for Maggie. After several more minutes Maggie had not returned, so Mary went in search of her.

Mary stood outside the lavatory and knocked softly on the door. "Maggie?" There was no reply, so Mary gently tapped her knuckle against the door again. "Maggie, darling?" But it was still quiet, so Mary turned the door handle and stepped in. She found Maggie, head down, at the vanity and sound asleep.

~O~

Matthew and Robert stood next to each other across from Mary outside of Maggie's old room. They called Doctor Parker, who was inside examining Maggie.

"Dear, heavens," Robert sighed. "I couldn't believe how thin her hand was when I held it. It's like holding a tiny bird."

Matthew pressed a fist up to his mouth. "I'm certain she's just a little tired from her trip and from all of her studies."

Mary looked at him sideways. "Let's hope so."

The door opened, and Doctor Parker stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him. "Well," he began, "I'm afraid she is rather ill, but nothing that can't be remedied."

Matthew frowned. "What is it?"

Parker looked at him. "Did you notice how thin she is? That young lady weighs less than a hundred pounds. She said she only eats one meal a day and sometimes nothing at all." He pulled his glasses off and began cleaning them with a handkerchief. "She also averages two hours of sleep a night because of her job."

Mary's eyes widened. "A job? Doing what?"

Parker put his glasses back on and looked at her. "She is a college tutor."

"Yes,we know that, but it isn't a job, is it?"

Parker took a deep breath. "She helps other students with their homework and prepare for exams, and it paid an hourly wage for it, so yes it is a job. And I would imagine at Cambridge it might be a rather consuming one at that." He continued. "And did you know that when she takes notes in her classes she takes them in French? Yet another area of study she is perfecting. Oh, and she can't recall the last time she experienced a woman's cycle—she thinks it was ten months ago."

Matthew glanced at Robert and Mary. "Well she loves her studies, I'm sure of it."

Parker sighed. "I quite agree—her education is something she genuinely enjoys. But be that as it may, Mr. Crawey, the extent of her long hours and arduous work is taking its toll. In short, your daughter is slowly disappearing."

Disappearing… the words floated around them. Matthew drew a hand across his brow. "Well what can we do?"

Parker opened his medical bag and pulled out a small pill bottle. "Give her two of these every four to six hours for the next week."

Mary piped up. "But she'll only be here through the next three days."

"Well then change her plans. She cannot return in this condition, in fact she never should have travelled like this. Frankly I am shocked that someone from the university did not contact you about this situation."

Matthew looked up at him from under his brow. "What else should we do?"

"She needs plenty of rest, liquids, and three full meals a day. I want her to gain at least a stone while she is here and more if possible. Furthermore, she brought an entire bag of text books to study."

Matthew looked at him quizzically. "And?"

Parker slipped his jacket back on. "I want you to hide them. If she reads I want it to be for pleasure and leisure. She needs rest and relaxation. I'd like to come back on Boxing Day to check on her, if that's alright?"

Mary looked at Matthew and nodded. "Yes, of course it is."

~O~

Maggie lay in her bed, dressed in her night clothes, her arms crossed over her chest. Her blond hair had been freed from its bun and was fanned loosely on to the pillow. She was frustrated by the doctor's assessment. "Exhaustion, indeed," she muttered to herself. "It's completely ridiculous!"

She was distracted by the sound of snickering noises coming from the foot of her bed. Her head popped up and she glanced down. "Alright you little spies, I can hear you."

Two heads popped up and Reggie and Bobby peeked at her from the edge of the mattress by her feet. "We see you!" Reggie said, laughing.

Maggie plopped her head back on to the pillow. "Yes, so you have." She smiled at their laughter and giggles.

The boys wiggled up on to the mattress. They were wearing matching red plaid robes over their pajamas. Bobby tugged at her hand. "Will you wead to us?"

Matthew's voice came from the doorway. "Not tonight, gents." He crossed over towards the bed, snapping his fingers at them. "Maggie's had a long trip from Cambridge, so let's let her get some rest. Alright?"

Each boy leaned over and kissed her cheek and Maggie smiled at their affection. "Thank you," she whispered to them patting their backs as they scooted off the bed and skipped out of the room.

Matthew sat down on the edge of the bed. Looking down at her he could see it now. She had a pale, rail thin appearance, and her eyes were shaded by dark, purple circles. The color of her eyes had changed from blue to a cloudy, grey color. "Here," he held out two pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Parker said you should take two of these pills every four hours for the next week or so."

Maggie took the pills and swallowed them with a gulp of water. "Remind me not to forget them when I leave on Tuesday."

Matthew pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm afraid you won't be returning to Cambridge on Tuesday."

She looked at him. "What? But I have to study for exams. They are in three weeks. And I have a ticket for the noon train."

He screwed the top back on to the pill bottle. "And it is in your best interest to remain here so you can rest and eat well, and recuperate."

She leaned up on her elbows. "But I feel perfectly fine." Her expression was filled with frustration.

"Maggie, you fell asleep in the lavvy. And Parker says your weight is dangerously low and that you have been pushing yourself far too hard." He put the pill bottle in his pocket. "I want you to get some rest."

"But I don't want to fall behind!" Her voice was hoarse but earnest.

Matthew reached a hand out to her forehead, brushing her hair from her face. "I know you don't. But you must follow his guidance and my direction."

"But…" she tried to argue but the touch off his hand was so tender and warm she leaned back on to her pillow instead. "I really should return on Tuesday."

"I'm afraid it's not up for discussion." He spoke softly but firmly, his hand brushing over her head.

She hummed at his touch and rubbed her cheek against his hand. "I suppose it has been such a long time since I have been home." Looking up at him, her eyelids fluttered trying to remain open.

Matthew leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Yes. And I'm so proud of you for all of your hard work and merit at school. You have performed admirably, Maggie, truly admirably."

As his hand smoothed over her head her eyes began to drift close. She smiled and her voice became barely audible. "I'm so glad. It's all I ever wanted."

His brows wrinkled in concern at her words. He arranged the covers around her tighter and felt something under the blankets. He reached underneath and pulled the object out. It was the stuffed orange kitten, the fur nearly worn away from being held so much. He set it beside her and when he stood to move away, one of her hands clung to his shirt sleeve. Matthew sat back down on the bed and stretched out beside her, his long legs reaching the length of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and she turned and rested her cheek against his shoulder, softly snuffling against his shirt.

Hugging her to him, he could feel every bone in her body. He stroked a hand over her hair and could feel her fall in to a deep sleep, the tension escaping her body. He kissed her forehead and murmured against her temple. "Please don't disappear, Maggie."


	16. Chapter 16

December 1940 – Downton Abbey

Matthew walked through the grand saloon, absentmindedly glancing at himself in the large mirror near the foot of the staircase. England was in uniform again and seeing himself in his Army tunic still surprised him at times as it was all new again. The new uniform had been updated, no longer requiring cavalry boots for his role at the Admiralty. But the Sam Brown strap still crossed over his shoulder and attached at his waist belt, which accentuated his frame, so he was thankful he still kept his trim physique. He looked over at Mary who was standing in the hall with the caterer; she was wearing a royal blue afternoon suit, hat and gloves and he thought she looked amazingly beautiful. He paused just momentarily to gaze at her and they shared a knowing look. He felt a little smug and aroused that they could still capture each others attention from across a crowded room.

Up ahead he saw Bill Whyte and his best man, Roger, standing near the fireplace holding cigarettes; both men were crisply dressed in blue R.A.F uniforms. Their smiles and relaxed demeanor made Matthew grin as he approached the young officers. "Beautiful morning for a wedding, isn't it Flight Leftenant Whyte?" He liked Bill and it showed.

Seeing Matthew approach, the two lieutenants stood up straight, their hands and their cigarettes at their sides. "Good morning, sir!" they greeted cheerfully.

Matthew smiled and discreetly waved off their formality. "Please, gentleman, you shall make me feel like an old man."

Roger reached in to his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Would you care for a cigarette, Colonel Crawley?"

"Well, I really shouldn't," he began to gently decline. But instead, he felt a sudden desire to bond with his young lieutenants on such a special day. "It's kind of you to offer, Roger. Thank you," he said, changing his mind, reaching a hand out and sliding one of the cigarettes from the pack. Bill pulled out a lighter and flicked it to life, lighting Matthew's cigarette. Matthew put it to his lips and exhaled, letting the smoke circle out around them. He analyzed the cigarette. "This is quite good. I haven't had one in years."

Roger sensed a private opportunity for Bill and his future Father in Law, so he made up an excuse to make himself scarce for a few minutes. "Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'll head to the ballroom and see if I can assist with seating the guests or help Lady Crawley." He nodded in Matthew's direction and walked off toward the east wing.

Matthew pulled on the cigarette again, releasing a delicate puff of smoke. He decided to make small talk before saying what he really wanted to say. "I like him, Bill. He's a nice chap." He reached up and pulled a tobacco leaf speck from his lips.

Bill smiled. "Roger? Yes, he is. We made it through Sandhurst together, and then pilot training, and of course the air campaign against Germany. We're lucky we're both still alive."He looked down at the floor reflectively. "He's like a brother. I couldn't possibly imagine anyone else standing up with me on my wedding day." He smiled broadly and tapped his cigarette against an ashtray on a nearby end table.

Matthew ran a hand over the back of hair. "A wedding day is a big day. Promises to be made and vows declared."

Bill tried to read him. "Yes, it is, sir."

"Well, if you and Maggie have half as lovely a day as her mother and I did, you will have the memories of a lifetime."

"I hope so, sir." He put his cigarette to his lips again and let the smoke out gently. "But what I really want for the rest of our lives is to make Margaret happy. I'll do whatever I can to give her a lifetime of beautiful memories and joy." He spoke in a hushed whisper. "She'll always have my whole heart. I can promise you that."

Matthew eyed him thoughtfully. "It's not me who requires your promises." He gave Bill a firm but reassuring smile. "But, yes, I believe you will keep Maggie's heart safe, which I'll hold you to. And you know how much her mother and I think of you, don't you Bill?"

Bill nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir, and I am so very glad that you do."

Matthew glanced at his watch and snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I better go check on our bride."

* * *

As he walked along the corridor Matthew balanced a napkin-covered dessert plate in his right hand. He thought back to all the times he had done so, most of them happy memories and a few of them bittersweet; but he sighed as he realized this would be his last. In an hour Maggie would be married and on her way in the world. She had grown in to a beautiful young woman. She had not only recovered from her illness at Christmas a few years earlier, but she had gone on to flourish and finished at Cambridge as the top student in her class. Not long after, Bill asked for her hand and Matthew and Mary had given their blessing. He was happy and delighted for Maggie, and glad that he and Mary still had their hands full with five year old sons. Violet had been right, he pondered as he rounded the hallway corner. Parenthood is the one love story that is supposed to end in separation; children grow up and parents must let them go. His heart was filled with memories, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness even on such a happy day.

He rapped gently on Maggie's bedroom door. "Come in," her womanly voice called out happily—he already missed the teenager she had been. He opened the door and stepped inside and found her standing in front of the window, next to the French vanity. She was resplendent in a long, white velvet gown, with a full skirt that fell from a fitted waist. The cuffs of the long sleeves and the high neck collar were trimmed with white fur, and she wore a long veil attached to the jeweled head piece her mother had worn as a bride. She had had her hair cut shoulder length again, and it framed her face with soft blond curls. It reminded Matthew of their trip to London after the storm, when they stayed at the Dorchester. He stopped in the middle of the room. "Oh, Maggie, you look positively stunning, darling."

She beamed and took a step toward him. "You really think so, Daddy?" The velvet skirt and rustling from her veil made an elegant swooshing sound as she moved.

"Absolutely. I'll be giving away the prettiest bride in all of England in a few minutes."

Maggie crossed the room until she stood right in front of him. She looked up at him, loving how they shared the same blue eyes. "Giving me away sounds so sad, doesn't it?" She looked up at him innocently and earnestly.

Matthew agreed and nodded reluctantly. "Well, I suppose it's a passage all young women must pass, and all fathers must endure."

Her eyes looked forlorn as she and Matthew stood quietly together. "Perhaps," she posed, "we could alter the wording to simply say that you are…" She thought for moment, "…presenting me in marriage instead of giving me away? What do you think?"

Matthew mulled it around in his head as a smile formed on his lips. "You know, I think I like that better, too. You're mother will kill us—you know how she hates last minute changes to anything." They chuckled conspiratorially and he held up the dessert plate. "I brought you something."

Maggie smiled but slightly frowned. "Oh, I couldn't possibly eat something before the ceremony! I have butterflies—I might get a little ill!"

He cocked his head. "What if it's something from the ocean?"

Maggie made a face. "Seafood? Oh, Daddy, please…at eleven in the morning before my wedding?"

He laughed and dramatically pulled the napkin off. Another white linen napkin was swirled upon the dessert plate, and a pearl necklace was nestled in it. Maggie's face became one of surprise. "Oh, Daddy!"

He reached up and lifted the lustrous strand of iridescent pearls in his fingers. "They were your great-grandmothers, my father's mother." He opened the clasp and stepped behind her, draping the strand around her neck. "You know, the one who we look like."

Maggie smiled as her fingertips touched the shiny pearls which lay against the velvet and fur neckline of her gown. "Oh, Daddy, are you certain? I mean, shouldn't these really go to Mommie?"

"No, no." He stood back in front of her and admired the necklace. "They belong to the woman who inherited Margaret Crawley's name…and her eyes."

Maggie stood up straighter and smiled at him. "How do they look?"

He regarded her and thought she truly looked beautiful—maybe even prettier than Mary had looked on their wedding day, but he would keep that secret thought to himself and take it to his grave. "You look positively perfect."

She looked at him affectionately. "And I must say that you're looking particularly handsome in your uniform…as you do in everything, Father." He laughed appreciatively and they stood for a moment without saying a word. Maggie shrugged and looked around. "Well, it's almost time. I wonder where my page boys are?"

Matthew raised a brow. "Oh, I think I saw them in the hall," he said stepping toward the door and opening it. Reggie and Robert appeared in their matching kilts, short black jackets and neckties. They scurried over to Maggie, running in to her open arms.

Maggie bent down and called out to them excitedly. "Ah, my pages! There you are, you little weasels!" The boys laughed and rushed in to her arms. Maggie scooped them in to her embrace. "You lot look like little Highlanders! And quite smart!"

Reggie, the more serious one, kissed her cheek. "You look pretty, Maggie." He blushed a little awkwardly as he kept his arm around her and hugged her; he was more like her and their father.

Robert tugged at her other arm playfully like an excited puppy. "Come on! It's time!" He was rambunctious and full of life, always a twinkle in his eye. He reminded everyone of Sybil.

Matthew put a firm hand on Robert's shoulder, straightening him up. "Please, Robert. Slow down and stop pulling your sister's arm." He reached out and clasped Robert's wrist with authority to make his point and his son minded dutifully.

Robert looked up at him a tad more obediently. "But it's time."

Matthew patted his head. "Yes, yes, you are quite right." He looked from Robert back to Reggie. "Now, gents, do you remember what to do in the ceremony today?"

They nodded excitedly as Maggie straightened the boy's dark brown hair with her fingers. "How fortunate I am to have all three of the Crawley men to give me awa…"

Matthew held up a finger correcting her. "…presenting you in marriage."

Maggie nodded happily. Matthew bent his arm and held his elbow out to her. "Shall we?" She slipped her gloved hand through it and they walked quietly out of the room. Reggie and Robert walked in front of them accordingly as they continued down the corridor and toward the grand staircase. Matthew patted her hand with his and smiled at her and Maggie felt her eyes water. They took the steps of the staircase slowly, one at a time, so Maggie's dress could keep up with their graceful descent. The Vicar stood at the foot of the stairs smiling up at them.

As they stepped from the last step, Matthew addressed him. "Good morning Vicar."

The clergyman smiled gently and gestured with a nod. "Good Morning Colonel Crawley. I think you have England's loveliest bride on your arm."

Matthew smiled and looked at Maggie. "Yes, indeed." He looked back at the vicar. "About that," he began, "We were wondering if it would be possible to tweak the wording of the ceremony a bit?"

The older man cocked his head. "Tweak?"

"Yes. Instead of saying that I am giving the bride away, we wondered if it would be possible to say something like _'present this bride in marriage'_?"

"_Present this bride in marriage_?" The vicar repeated the quote and contemplated the request. "It's more modern, to be sure, and I have never done it before, but I don't think there is anything inappropriate about it." He paused and pondered the request.

"I'd consider it a personal favor," Mathew said softly to the priest.

"Yes, I think we can do that." The vicar laughed and wished them well and left for the ballroom.

Matthew held Maggie's hands in his. "Ready my dear?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He kissed her cheek affectionately, pulling her against him momentarily. Today she smelled like Chanel Number 5, but he remembered when she smelled like ice cream and fresh grass. He reached his hands over her head and carefully lifted the blusher of the veil up and down over her face, arranging it in place. He couldn't help the words that slipped from his mouth. "If he ever causes you one instant of unhappiness, he'll have to answer to me."

She smiled. "He won't."

Matthew nodded. "I know…but just in case, don't forget it." He raised a brow and they shared a smile. "You see, the love story of my life hasn't just been about your mother." He caught himself, holding back a tear. "It has been you, too, my young darling."

Maggie looked at him, not sure what to say. "I know how much you love the boys, too."

Matthew kissed her cheek again. "Yes, but I'll always have loved you the longest." He held her hand. "Remember, a son is a son until he takes a wife; but a daughter is a daughter for all of her life."

Maggie smiled and leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy."

He leaned his cheek in to her peck and then sighed. "Alright, then. But just remember that I reserve the right to bring you cake late at night."

Maggie snickered. "I hope so!" The boys appeared again and stood patiently. They all turned and together walked toward the ballroom, where a new love story would begin…and old love stories would continue.

Fin!


End file.
